Dogs Go to Heaven

Early this morning our friends lost their beautiful yellow lab. She had been fading recently, so I don’t think that it was a surprise. But when my friend reached out to let me know that their precious dog had passed away, my eyes filled with tears.

I remember when Gadget was a puppy. And she’s been a loving, faithful dog for many years. That goodbye is never easy.

Pets are such important parts of our lives. They bring us joy. They show us how to love. And we never get enough time with them.

It’s been more than 20 years since the day I said goodbye to my dog, our beautiful husky-shepherd Flurry. But whenever a friend shares that they lost their beloved dog, I am right back in the room at the vet’s office, stroking Flurry while singing her standard lullaby, “All Through the Night,” as she fell asleep one last time.

I’ll always be grateful that God gave me and my brother the strength to accompany her as she crossed over the rainbow bridge.

The Catholic Church doesn’t say much about where pets go when they die. And I’m sure there are people of deep faith who believe dogs don’t go to heaven. But I have never doubted that God creates these animals in his love, and that he brings them home to himself when their time on earth is done.

Just weeks after we said goodbye to Flurry, I went on a weekend retreat. I needed to spend some time alone. It was a chaotic time in my life, and I needed time in prayer. I happened to go to a Franciscan retreat center in Wilmington, Delaware, but I didn’t even think of the connection to St. Francis when I was planning my visit.

When I arrived, though, it occurred to me—and I felt a deep sense of peace. Over the course of the weekend, I didn’t tell my new friend there, Fr. Thomas Pietrantonio, OFM Cap., about Flurry. Losing her was still too raw and real, and I wasn’t sure I could speak about her without crying.

But that Sunday morning after Mass, a man who had played the guitar during the service was chatting with Fr. Tom. And he asked him where he thought dogs went when they died.

Fr. Tom was full of reassurance and hope. I don’t remember his exact words, but what he said strengthened my belief that our pets—so loved, so cherished, and so missed—will be a part of our eternal future.

As Pope Paul VI once told a child who was grieving his dog’s death, “One day we will see our animals again in the eternity of Christ.”

Maybe they’re chasing squirrels or enjoying steaks or fast food burgers every day. Maybe they’re spending time with our loved ones who’ve gone before us. Maybe they’re hanging out with St. Francis. Whatever they are doing, I imagine they are full of life and full of love.

And I feel sure that one day when I reach heaven, Flurry will come running to greet me—and flop on the grass at my feet, all ready for a belly rub.

You might also enjoy “Opening Our Hearts to Love”

Photo by Sourav P V

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