-- WhiteKnuckle, I must confess I was rather put off by you finding it "insulting to think that animals go to heaven when they die" and then comparing it to thinking a tree would go to heaven if you chop it down or a weed would go to heaven if you kill it.
It gives me the impression that you likely have never had an animal touch your life in a special way.
I am simply baffled as to how someone would find it "insulting" that an animal - a dog, for example - who gives loving compationship, affectionate interaction, comfort though pain, sickness or loss, would somehow lessen the idea of heaven by being admitted in?
Unlike a tree or a weed, an animal such as a he has purpose, such as bringing happiness and companionship as a therapy dog to senior citizens and shut-ins. Some lay on the lap or the chest of someone who they sense is going to have a seizure to help warn them and calm them. They work as service dogs for the blind and are even "prescribed" by doctors for companionship for people who suffer from clinical depression.
They have shown a great capacity for love as well as unmatched loyalty and the ability (if you wish to call it that) to truly mourn for someone they lose.
They bring joy and purpose to children who are sick, hospitalized, or recovering from abuse. They are in many cases the only companionship to those who are alone, either through death of a loved one, neglect by their children, or divorce.
They protect police officers, help servicemen locate and avoid IEDs, and have even given their lives dying of cancer from searching the rubble for survivors of the World Trade Center collapse.
They have brought laughter to the most scarred of children, tears to the most hardened of men (myself included), and a sense of family to scores of childless couples.
My parents both live in a senior citizen center a few blocks from my home. My mother needs full assistance and my father, in the throws of Alzheimers, is unable to care for himself. It is a hard thing to have to basically re-introduce yourself to your father every time you visit.
But I bring my dog, my loving Sheltie, and my father responds when he sees him. Sodapop (My daughter named him. What are ya gonna do?) brightens him and makes him interact.
But more than that. Although he is not a therapy dog, he lifts the lives of the 30 or so other residents on my parent's wing. People nearly comatose in a wheelchair or sitting sadly in front of a TV or by a phone that never seems to ring LIGHT UP when he comes on the floor.
Everyone wants to pet him and give him treats and he bears up well under the "onslaught of love and affection."
I may not know much, but I can see how God uses that little guy to bring joy into lives of people that, in many cases, do not get it anywhere else.
While my best friend may not have the Divine Spark we hear so much about, I can indeed see a spark of Divinity in him.
I watched my (then) 6 year old daughter sleep on the kitchen floor right next to him the first night we brought him home as a puppy so he wouldn't be scared. And over the following decade watched him teach her about forgiveness, unconditional love, and the true meaning of companionship.
I have carried this dog in my arms when he has hurt a paw or gotten sick, spent many a day the vet's office, taken countless drives just to get him out of the house, let him have his head out the window even in the dead of winter, caved in to the look he gives me when he realizes we are going through the McDonald's drive-thru and sacrificed many a french fry, had him lay with his head on my chest as I have lay sick in bed, and spent hours just sitting together on the couch enjoying each other's company.
I have held long conversations with this dog (albeit rather one-sided) while on lengthy trips, and enjoyed the fact that he doesn't criticize my singing. I have kissed him on the cheek or head almost daily and, with total sincerity, told this little guy to his face that I love him.
It quite literally hurts to think that this guy would not be with me in heaven. I know that is silly because in heaven I will experience pure joy and feel no emptiness. So, even if he isn't there, I know I will have total joy.
But the imperfect me here on earth has difficulty understanding how I could possibly have that level of happiness without him being there at my side.
Silly, I know. Just indulge me.
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