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Do Dogs Really Go To Heaven? I Think, Yes
My parents had a strange attitude towards animals. The animals had to stay out, “Because… they were… animals!” they would say. I guess that was the usual attitude of parents in my younger days. But I didn’t agree.
I never understood because to me they weren’t just animals, they were my pets, my cat or puppy, my friends, who never judged or said “no” or shook me because I didn’t do what they wanted. If they didn’t appreciate my loving nature as well, they just ran away or climbed a tree or just walked away from my effort. But they always came back. They have always been my furry friend. They would let me pet them and cuddle them in my arms if I sat long enough, long enough.
I learned a lot about life from my pets. They taught me about trust, loyalty and justice. I could tell them my innermost feelings and they would never tell. They have been reliable and protective of me if another dog or cat steps on our property. My dogs would chase away a strange dog and my cats would hiss and growl if the intruder got too close. They weren’t “animals” to me. They were friends.
After coming of age, the recognition that I was not my parents, even though I loved them very much… news, freedom of choice, allowed me the ability to make my own rules. And I did.
Over the years my children accumulated a lot inside pets; cats, dogs, gerbils, turtles, fish and even white rats, eek! (I was a good mother to put up with these creatures.) We all learned they were cannibals, but we won’t go there right now.
We housed really smart dogs and sweet cats and ugly, aggressive, vicious cats. Some died and were buried in the back yards where we happened to live. They were given the proper “last rites” and my children were assured that they would go to Heaven.
These same children have become parents themselves and had various and various beloved cats and dogs of their own, indoor cats and dogs.
Sometimes their dogs have come to visit “Grandma’s” house when their human parents were away for a few days and needed someone to love and care for their needs. I say dogs because my Cat, Tiger, absolutely would not tolerate another cat in this household.
Two of my favorite Grand-dogs came with much humility and respect when entering this threshing floor because Tiger demanded it, like a guard with his rifle in hand ready to defend against any unauthorized entrances.
They knew at once that Tiger was in charge here. Ribsey, a pet of my son Gerald and my family, was a large, unusual dog, having one blue eye and brown. It was a cross between a large Terrier and a Husky. Her fur was long, thick and curly. He weighed about 65 kg. Her strangeness was her charm. She was kind and loving and loved by all who knew her. Her first attempt at friendship with Tigris resulted in a scratched nose and a loud howl. An interesting approach to self-defense is soon to follow. From that moment on, Ribsey managed to never look Tiger in the eye again. When they met each other, she turned her head in a way that looked devilish and funny at the same time. After a few days of being together, Tiger allowed her to be in the same room and not squirm and yawn at her. Ribsey tried so hard to hold back her natural urge to be friendly, but this had scratched her nose…she wasn’t going there again.
Ribsey spent many years as part of her family and sometimes visited “Grandma’s”. I always looked forward to it because she was such a sweet dog.
But as all beloved pets do, she died at 14. He was diagnosed with Addison’s disease, where the body attacks its own organs. The animal becomes anorexic and loses a lot of weight. For two years, IVs prolonged her life, but in the end, the disease won. We all mourned her loss. She was buried with respect and life went on,
after all, without her.
There was no doubt that Ribsey had gone to Heaven. She deserved to go to Heaven because she was such a great family member.
Another favorite pet dog was a tan Boxer, named Belle. Belle was my youngest son Joe’s family dog for many years, but when they moved to a new rental house, no dogs were allowed. With a heavy, but grateful heart, he gave Belle to his older brother Chris.
Belle, the sweet, loving dog that she was, fell right into her new family very quickly and loved her new big yard to run around in. She was well behaved and loved by my grandchildren and a joy to have around.
Belle thought that everyone who came to the front door was a special guest coming to see her. She wagged her tail so hard her whole rear end looked like she was trying out for a hula dance competition. I could swear he was smiling too. Her wide mouth looked like a U. Her gums showed and her eyes shone. I loved this dog.
Belle brought many years of joy to Chris’ growing family, but about 6 months ago, in her 11th year, she started having seizures and was put on barbiturates to control them. She became slow and dull and the sparkle was gone from her eyes, even though she was trying to be her old self, she wasn’t Belle anymore.
One Sunday, around Christmas, they thought he was going to die. I made a special trip after Church, hoping I could see her one more time before she left that plane.
She tried to welcome me and be friendly but with a lot of effort.. I haven’t seen her since.
Last night, I dreamed that Belle was behind me, at the porch door. She was dancing around shaking her body with joy to see me and seemed to want to come inside. I said to her, “Belle, what are you doing here? How did you get here? I wondered if my son knew he was here. They lived on the other side of town. Suddenly, I saw a distant round circle of light in the sky that seemed to be beckoning me… Then I understood what’s it all about I knew she was dead and I said, “Go to the light Belle, go to the light.” Belle listened and then excitedly ran away.
After that I woke up. I thought about the dream and felt like I should tell my son. Perhaps it would offer him comfort if he died soon.
Throughout the day it entered my consciousness again and again. I finally called Chris. I asked him if Belle was all right. He said, “Mom, we just didn’t tell you because we knew you loved her. We thought we’d tell you later. We had to put her down.”
I asked, “When?”
He said, “New Year’s weekend.”
I said, “I thought it must have passed because I had this dream last night.”
I told him about the dream.
He said, “This gives me chills. I had a dream last night too. Belle was running and jumping as if she were still alive. She was happy. I knew she was dead, but the dream made me feel good,” he said, “Now you’re telling me you had almost the same dream.”
I said, “He tells me that the dogs I am doing go to Heaven.”
“Yes, I’m sure he went to Heaven,” he said.
You, my readers, may not believe this and laugh and shake your head, but I don’t care. Belle came to tell me she was happy, again. I believe it and that’s it!
Anyone with similar stories? Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org because my opt-in box is not working. Please use the word “stories” as the subject, because I get a lot of spam and delete most of them..
Thanks for listening.
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