As I type this entry, next to me on a shelf there is a beautiful portrait that was painted by a friend of ours while we lived in Austin, Texas. It is a portrait of our dog Luke when he was young. Luke died on December 31 of this past year, on our third full day here in Washington Court House. He was a terrier mix who was approximately 13-14 years old. We'd had him for 7 of those years after we took him in as a stray while in Austin. He wasn't the easiest dog to get along with and we had to keep him away from the kids sometimes and always away from guests, but we loved him nonetheless. But he got old, lost his hearing, was losing his vision, and was starting to have bladder problems. I should have put him down in Oklahoma but I couldn't bring myself to do it. "He'll do just fine" I kept saying. Three days into living here I knew I had done the wrong thing.
It wasn't the best way to meet the folks at Fayette Veterinary Hospital, tears rolling down my face. They were extremely sympathetic and comforting. "You're doing the right thing," they assured me again and again as I struggled to keep it together without any luck. They offered to take care of it but I wouldn't leave Luke. I'm not sure if I wanted to comfort Luke or punish myself. Anyway, I forced myself to be with him as they put him to sleep. "Take as much time as you want," they said. When the doctors left I stood and petted him for the last time. I didn't want the kids to be upset by my emotions so before I went home I walked around the reservoir near the YMCA in the midst of a cold drizzle to pull myself together. "Good grief, man," I kept telling myself. "It's just a dog. Get over it." But it wasn't just a dog. It was my dog, and seven weeks later I still get a bit emotional about putting my dog to sleep.
Within a day or two the nice folks at Fayette Veterinary Hospital sent me a pet-specific sympathy card with a poem enclosed called "The Rainbow Bridge." Also, during that time I pulled from my shelf a novel that had been given to us by Danielle's Aunt. It was called The Art of Racing in the Rain. I had no idea what it was about but I wanted something to read to take my mind off of the stress of the move and the loss of my dog. It turns out the novel is not only about a dog, but is, in fact, narrated by a dog! And a dog who is about to go to the vet to be put down and is reviewing his life. What are the chances? He puts his hope in the Mongolian belief that a dog, if "ready," can be reincarnated as a man. It may sound like a strange or silly book but it was one of the most powerful and moving books I've ever read. More than anything it is the story of a family that encounters terrible tragedy and conflict. It is a book that will make you look into a dog's eyes and wonder if there is more going on behind them than we will ever know. Also, interestingly enough, just a couple of days later, with no knowledge of me having to put my dog down, someone asked me over a cup of coffee at Tim Horton's, "This may sound silly, but do you think dogs go to heaven?"
This question makes sense in our current cultural context in which dogs are not generally seen as pests as they have been in some cultures but as companions. In many ways dogs are not even seen as pets anymore. They are seen as members of the family. Dog owners or masters are now dog parents. Granted, loving a dog (or other domesticated animal) is nothing new, but I cannot help but think that our relationships with our dogs have changed in recent years. As humans we are wired to ask the big questions. So if we love a dog, and that dog dies, what happens? Whatever we love, we cannot bear to think of it as being anything other than eternal. What is a Christian to believe?
Firstly, I want to be clear that while "the Rainbow Bridge" is a moving poem it has absolutely no basis in Scripture and since Scripture is our authority on matters of eternal life the poem should be seen as nothing more than what it is: a poem. It's a good one, though, maybe not technically or critically but it is a tear jerker. It speaks of fields where companion animals play after death. However, they are always aware that something is missing. When their human companion dies they are reunited in the field then the animal walks with the person over "the rainbow bridge" into heaven. In other words, heaven is for people but the animals those particular people loved get to go in with them. That sounds very nice as long as we remember that it is merely an idea presented by somebody in a poem that has become popular as we grow more attached to our pets. Part of the reason, I believe, for the popularity of the poem even among Christians is that as Christians we don't really have any way to address the death of our beloved animals that is satisfying to us.
While our Scriptures are absolutely clear that humanity is unique and above the rest of creation, being the only creatures that are made "in the image of God," the scriptures do, however, also testify that God had a place for animals in His creation even before humanity and that animals have been prophecied to be present in the eventual redemption of creation (the lion lays down with the lamb, etc.). As to whether or not those animals will specifically include our beloved pets that have died is anyone's guess. The traditional Christian belief is that humanity has been uniquely gifted by God with an eternal nature and therefore, animals, when they die, simply cease to exist. But, once again, our relationship to some animals has changed over time. For those of us who have stared into a dog's eyes and had chills go down our back when we get the feeling that there is something more in those eyes than just "a part of nature," this traditional belief is hard to swallow.
The brilliant Christian author C.S. Lewis took a stab at this question 60 years ago or so in his book The Problem of Pain. His idea, which I had read years earlier and immediately came to mind when the person at Tim Horton's asked me the question, is strikingly similar in one way to "The Rainbow Bridge." Lewis admits that he is just throwing out an idea with absolutely no Scriptural backing and no real investment in it from his perspective. He's just brainstorming in response to being asked this question over and over again. His idea is that wild animals are irrelevant in the discussion of life after death. If an animal is not associated with a human then it really is just a part of nature. But those animals we love are "in us" in a similar way that we are "in Christ." What he means is that in the same way that we "catch a ride" on Jesus Christ's righteousness, gaining eternal life through his holiness and not our own, that perhaps (just perhaps) maybe our beloved companion animals "catch a ride" with us, gaining eternal life through our holiness (given by Christ) and not their own. That sounds a lot like "The Rainbow Bridge" to me. Interesting. Granted, C.S. Lewis isn't the Bible but I have a lot of respect for anything Lewis wrote.
As mentioned, Scripture is silent on what, if anything, happens for animals after they die. Personally, I don't think that heaven is just whatever we want it to be, filled with all of our favorite stuff. I cannot help but think that when I am confronted with the presence of God that all my favorite stuff will be like rubbish in comparison and that all the love I experienced in my life will pale in comparison to the love I will experience there. More than likely I won't even remember that I had a dog. But I don't know any of that for sure. However if I see a little black dog with his ears sticking up and his tail curled up running across a field to get to me, I'll be filled with joy to pet my little guy again and to experience him in a way that isn't influenced by his past abuse and neglect before he came to live with us. If my Lukey is there, I'd be very thankful for that. Ultimately, though, I put my hope in spending eternity not with my D-O-G but with my G-O-D.
In the meantime, my family and I are loading up this Saturday to drive to Cincinnati in hopes of adopting a Labrador from Cincinnati Lab Rescue, because while I don't know if there are dogs in heaven, I know that a good dog (or horse or cat) can be a little glimpse of heaven here.
Just something to think about.
