All dogs go to heaven

November 23, 2010

Yesterday, one of our extended pet-family members was put to sleep. Skeeter was 14, going on 15 years old. She joined our family around the same time as Jeremy did. I lived with her for a few months before Jeremy and I got married, when she was just a puppy. Lately, when I've had the chance to go home to visit, I've taken care to say farewell to the old queen, suspecting each time might be my last.

When I think about Harper, I don't typically think about her being in "heaven." I struggle with my faith in an afterlife. Do I want there to be a heaven? Absolutely. That would be wonderful. Do I always believe there is one? No, not always. But today as I've been thinking about Skeeter, I was comforted by the thought that she is now in heaven with my Harper (because if there is a heaven, I'm certain dogs go there too, and I don't say that flippantly).

Pets, dogs in particular, have been a huge part of my life. If you've read my blog at all you know how important Django has been to me - what a companion and comfort through some really difficult times he has been, not to mention the comic relief he provides me daily. And so when I think about Harper being in heaven, I love to think of her having Skeeter there. I picture the two of them playing together, Skeeter looking out for Harper the way I imagine Django would have done had Harper stayed with us. It's a cheesy little fantasy, I know, but it's providing me some comfort and even bringing a smile to my face in the midst of sorrow.