My series Black Dog was originally meant to shed a light on black pets who are often invisible in shelters, and the last to be adopted. It has since morphed into a bigger commentary on the place dogs occupy in our mysticism. Using the Christian symbols I grew up with, I challenge the idea that dogs – and animals – are created inferior to Mankind.

In the Middle Ages, animals were often associated with popular Christian saints, but the Church disapproved of the veneration of animals. During the 13th century, as the business of canonizing saints came under the control of popes, the Church cracked down on animal cults. Near my hometown, peasants venerated Saint Guinefort, a greyhound dog who was a healer of children. An inquisitor destroyed the site and burned the remains of the dog. Still, it remained a place of pilgrimage for mothers with sick children for centuries to come.

In stories of the Old World, before monotheist religions taught us that dogs are unworthy and inferior, dogs were often described as fierce guardians of the Afterlife, and/or guides to the human souls. They could refuse passage to the deceased – especially to those who weren’t good to dogs in life. They would carry the souls across dangerous obstacles. They also kept the souls from escaping. Black dogs were sometimes favored over precious white dogs, as they were more inclined to perform the gruesome duties.

“If a person has been good to dogs during his life, a black dog ferries his soul across the hot river. When an evil spirit (pujuk) comes to take the soul of a man, the dog suggests to him that he should count hairs on its tail before dawn. If the dog.s master has been good to him, the dog jerks its tail and the pujuk loses count” (Tzotzil legend / Maya).