Animals and the Afterlife (23 page)

Princess

Jodie McDonald, Advisor for State Government Kentucky

I
HAD AN
A
USTRALIAN SHEPHERD MIX
named Princess. I rescued her from the Humane Society when she was only a week old. I bottle-fed her and bought my house for her. She is so very special to me. I love her so very much.

We had to have Princess put to sleep. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to experience in life. I planted flowers in her memory. I made a shadow box with pictures, poems, her collar, and the bottle I used to feed her with. I sure did shed a lot of tears making it. I knew she was in Heaven with God; I knew she was okay, but I missed her so much, I would cry myself to sleep.

One night after I prayed and cried myself to sleep, I woke up in the middle of the night and Princess was at the foot of the bed, looking at me. She looked so beautiful. I sat up and reached, wanting to hug her, and she disappeared. I wasn’t dreaming; I was totally awake.

I rescue dogs and have a total of seven, and I love them with all my heart and soul. I don’t want to say Princess is dead because she’s not; she’s just living with God now, and I know we will be together again one day. I know she is in peace. Every day I send Princess love. I know that when she came to me that night, she did so to let me know that she is okay and that they do continue living on.

Molly

Frank J. Hannaford, Computer Consultant Nebraska

M
OLLY, OUR MUCH
-
BELOVED COMPANION DOG
, passed away after seventeen years of living as an integral part of our family. Our three children shared everything from baby food to beds with Molly, and she, in turn, loved and guarded them as much as their mother and I.

When Molly finally passed of old age, we were devastated. Our other dog and cats missed her as well. One cat in particular, Claudia, didn’t know what to do with herself. Being the “old Mother” and nominal leader, she had spent several of Molly’s last years acting as Molly’s “eyes and ears” … staying close by her side at all times, guiding her outside to our backyard when needed, and leading her back in to her bed.

Soon after Molly passed, however, all of us in the family—human and otherwise—came to realize that Molly often dropped by to check on us. At first, we were not sure what was going on. There would be some stirrings and noises in the area where Molly’s bed had been, which Claudia would rush to check out. Then some scratching at the back door, when our other animals were nowhere near it. Finally, every member of the family had a visual encounter of some kind.

I remember, for example, going to let the dogs in (we had acquired a second dog some months after Molly died, as our other dog was just too lonely without her old friend around). It was late at night, and instinctively I held the screen door open as the dogs entered … one, two, three. All was well, until, with a start, I remembered that there should only be two. I clearly remember seeing Molly’s faun-colored shape loping past me on the way in. Looking around, she was nowhere to be found, but I knew she had been present.

Similar events have taken place on a regular basis over these last two years, involving every family member. At first, it was a little unnerving. Now, we are all glad to know that our companion of all those years drops by for a visit now and then. It is comforting to know Molly is, in some form, still with us.

Demetri

Katharine Lyle Nelson, Speech/Language Pathologist West Virginia

I
SHARED MY LIFE WITH MY FRIEND
, a beautiful black cat named Demetri. I found her at high noon while working one summer. She became my best friend for the next nineteen years.

She saw me through many pains and losses. The greatest loss was that of the man with whom I thought I would be spending the rest of my life. It did not happen. This man of my dreams left me with many unanswered questions and tears. Demi was there when there were no words left to say. She purred and chirped to let me know she cared. She even licked away my tears.

She often climbed the bookcase in my bedroom, and would knock over the three small pictures I had placed there.

One snowy December morning, I found her in the kitchen and knew that something was very wrong. I rushed her to the vet, but her body was just beyond recovery. I grieved for her deeply for months.

O
NE DAY
, as I was lying on my bed, halfway between sleep and consciousness, something caught my eye, or so I thought. I looked over toward the bookcase where Demi loved to climb. In my state of grief and grogginess, I simply thought that I had imagined the black blur as it moved down from the bookcase. I continued to lie on my bed, hurting from the huge loss of my friend, and once again, wishing that I could know she was alright.

Something made me fully wake up and look up to her favorite shelf, where I had the three pictures. When I did, I knew I had not imagined that black blur, because every one of those pictures had been knocked over … exactly as she had done many times during her life. I smiled through my tears to know my dearest friend had come to comfort me one last time. I know she watches from that great Beyond, and one day I will see her beautiful face once again.

Mixie

Wendy B. Connecticut

I’
VE ALWAYS BEEN A DEEP
-
CORE ANIMAL LOVER
and have long believed that animals have souls and that they do go “home” to God, as we do. This was proven to me very recently.

I met my cat Mixie when I went to apply for a job at a local manufacturing plant. She was the “yard-cat,” and lived in the woods surrounding the company. During the days, she would sleep in the lobby, and someone would usually feed her; and in the evenings she would be put back outside for the night. When I walked into the lobby for my interview, she was sleeping on one of the chairs, and she lifted her head, looked directly into my eyes, and meowed, as if saying hello.

I petted and talked to Mixie while I was waiting for my interview to begin, and that was the beginning of the incredible bond we shared. I got the job, and before long I was Mixie’s self-appointed primary caretaker. I fed her every day, took her to the veterinarian for shots, and cuddled and talked to her. She began sleeping on a chair behind my desk rather than in the lobby, wanting to be closer to me.

One day I asked my supervisor how long Mixie had been the company cat. She told me that she had been working at the company for twelve years, and Mixie had been coming around for at least that long, and that she had been a full grown cat even back then. I was awed that at her age, with her rugged lifestyle, she could be in such good health. She had successfully survived hurricanes, blizzards, freezing temperatures, and New England predators year after year, living outside in the woods.

It was the winter several years later that started me seriously worrying about Mixie. It was a particularly bad year for snow and freezing temperatures in New England. I hated putting Mixie outside during those frigid evenings, and prayed constantly that she would be okay. It broke my heart that she couldn’t stay inside the building, but the owner wouldn’t allow it. And since I was still staying with my parents, I couldn’t take her home with me. I had no choice but to let her tough it out. But I cried for days each time, until I saw her again and knew that she was all right.

By the next fall, it was obvious to me that Mixie was getting much too old to survive another winter alone outside. I knew in my heart that her little body couldn’t take that strain. So I started thinking about finding her a home. But I couldn’t think of a single person who would love her and care for her like I did. One morning as I was driving to work, worrying about this, it suddenly dawned on me that Mixie belonged with
me.
I was making good money—there was no reason why I couldn’t get an apartment and take her in. Which is exactly what I did.

At first Mixie was a little unsure about the situation and was terrified of the television and ceiling fan (remember, she never actually had a “home” before, and had never seen that kind of thing), but she soon settled in and showed no desire to go outside again.

She lived with me for four wonderful years and seemed very happy there. Then one day, I came home to find Mixie dead on the couch, curled up on one of my sweaters. I dropped the bowl of food I had been carrying to her, and sobbed my heart out. My little sweetie was gone, and I hadn’t even been able to say good-bye. She had lived to be twenty-two years old (at least!).

I
DIDN’T NOTICE IT AT FIRST
, but after Mixie died, my other two cats stopped going into the living room. Not only did they stop going in there, they
refused
to go in there. If I picked them up and carried them in there, they immediately squirmed out of my arms and ran out of the room. I thought it was odd, but I pretty much just dismissed it from my mind. A few days later as I was getting ready for work, I noticed my cat Cinnamon (who was in the bedroom with me) intently staring from the bedroom door through the kitchen, into the living room. Her body was tense, her ears standing at attention, and her eyes were huge. I turned my head to see what she was looking at, and was stunned to see Mixie sitting in the living room doorway. I blinked and looked harder, but she was gone.

I had a strange feeling come over me but then just convinced myself that my eyes were playing tricks on me. It was dark when I got home that evening, and as I walked into the living room and switched on the light, I again saw Mixie, this time lying on the couch. She picked her head up and looked at me, then vanished. I broke into tears, knowing then what was happening. There was no denying it. Mixie was still with me, either afraid of moving on, or too worried about me to go.

I was almost hysterical, not because Mixie was still with me, but because I thought I might be holding her back in some way. I went into the bedroom to think and pray. I asked God what I should do, and I could feel the words come into me, “Tell her to go.” Of course—she probably was just waiting to be sure that I would be okay without her. So I immediately got up and went into the living room, sat down on the couch, and started talking quietly to her. I couldn’t see her anywhere, but there was a sense of a presence in the room.

I told her that I loved her, that I would always love her, and that I had loved having her with me for the past few years. I told her that it was time for her to go, and that she could come visit me anytime, but that there was a better place for her, with God. I promised her I would see her again some day, and that we would be together again. I was crying as I spoke to her, and I spoke deeply from my heart. I concentrated on sending as much love to her as I could, then prayed to God to send someone to help Mixie find her way home. Nothing spectacular happened, but it seemed as if the room was suddenly empty.

As the next couple of weeks passed, there were no Mixie sightings, by either me or the cats, and they started venturing into the living room again. But I still had a strong need to know that Mixie was okay. I began praying to God for a sign that Mixie was okay and that she was home with Him.

My request was answered on Halloween night (which, incidentally, I’ve heard is the night where the veil between the spiritual and physical worlds is the thinnest). I had a dream that night that I was walking in a grassy field. I came upon a group of approximately twenty cats, all playing rambunctiously around the base of a majestic tree. Suddenly one of the cats broke from the group and went to drink some water from a dish nearby. Before she lowered her head to the dish, however, she looked over at me, and I realized it was Mixie.

She looked like she did before her age had started to show: young and healthy and fit. She gave me one of those adorable kitty smiles of total contentment, then took a quick drink of water. She started to run back to play with her friends again, then stopped to glance over her shoulder at me once more. In that one glance, I could see in her eyes that she was well and that she was very happy. I woke up then, crying tears of joy. It was such a powerful dream, so vivid and strong with feeling. I didn’t just see Mixie; I
felt
her: her gentle, sweet presence. I could feel her love for me, and I could feel her total excitement at being with her friends. For days after that I had a glow of tremendous happiness in my heart. My little one was okay.

I believe with every ounce of my being that this was not just a dream. It was a message from Mixie, as I had requested, to let me know how well she was doing. Since then I’ve had only a couple more dreams like that, but none quite as powerful as the first. I think Mixie is just checking in with me every now and then to let me know that she thinks about me, just like I think about her. We shared something special, she and I, and I know that I’ll see her again someday and be able to hold her in my arms again and hear her sweet purring.

I think that God purposely led Mixie and me to each other, for one simple reason. Every creature (human and animal) deserves to be loved deeply, selflessly, and completely, at least once in their lives. Mixie and I gave that to each other, and that is a bond that can never be broken, not even by death.

Kim’s note:
It’s not uncommon for our departed loved ones to contact us in dreams. As Wendy discovered, these are truly more than just “dreams.” This topic will be covered in a later chapter. Meanwhile, I feel it’s important to mention here that if we have a visitation from a departed loved one, it doesn’t necessarily mean we are holding them back. It is often just their way of checking in, saying hello, and letting us know they still love and care about us. It was very appropriate that when Wendy told Mixie it was time for her to go and that there was a better place for her, she also told her that she could visit anytime. Our loved ones in spirit truly can have the best of both worlds.