For loss of a dog, here’s comfort

Dear Annie: Several years ago, you printed a piece from a reverend about a dog who had died. My own precious Poochie died yesterday after being hit by a car. I am having a hard time. I miss him so much. Could you please print that piece again?

Still Grieving in Fla.

Dear Florida: Here it is. We hope it helps:

Do Dogs Go To Heaven?

by the Rev. Dale Turner (1917-2006)

Looking back I see how important dogs have been in my life. I had been an ordained minister only a few weeks when I received a call from an 8-year-old boy. His dog had been killed by a car. “Mr. Turner,” the lad said, sobbing, “do you do funerals for dogs?”

I didn’t know quite how to respond, but I recalled the Scriptures’ affirmation of God’s knowing when even a sparrow falls. I replied, “Why not?” and I conducted a little ceremony for the boy’s pet. He was very pleased and then asked, “Is my dog going to heaven?” I wasn’t prepared for that question, but my love for animals got me through it. I’m sure I made the child feel better.

Several years later I had my own personal experience that provided the answer I had never been sure of.

Our wonderful dachshund, Gretta, died, and we were eager to bring another dog into our home. We went to the pound to get the dachshund whose photo had appeared in the paper. By the time we arrived, he had been claimed. Another puppy, sensing our mission, poked her nose through the wire fence. The look in her eyes seemed to say, “Please, pick me.” We did. And we named her Pick.

Whenever I came home, Pick was there to greet me. I’d say, “Pick, you’ve got it made. Other animals work for their keep. A canary sings, cows give milk, chickens lay eggs, but you don’t have to do anything but hang around.”

After 14 years, Pick became very sick, and there was nothing to be done except put her out of her misery. With a heavy heart I drove her to the vet’s, who did what had to be done. I then went back to my study and wept for hours.

A few days later, a parishioner who knew of my grief sent me this poem. It healed my sorrow. I’d like to share it:

I explained to St. Peter,

I’d rather stay here,

Outside the pearly gate.

I won’t be a nuisance,

I won’t even bark,

I’ll be very patient and wait.

I’ll be here, chewing on a celestial bone,

No matter how long you may be.

I’d miss you so much, if I went in alone,

It wouldn’t be heaven for me.

Dear Annie: “Just Want Peace and Quiet” said she stays with her parents when she visits, but her mother babysits her sister’s kids all day, and they play loud video games that keep her up half the night. She is missing a wonderful opportunity to be a great aunt. She could take the kids to the library, zoo or museum. Or, they could have a family fun day at home, playing games or cooking together. Just taking the kids for a walk around the block and listening to them could be fun and create lasting memories.

Marty in SoCal

Creators Syndicate