Our Guys

Rainbow Bridge Page

In Memory of...

Please help us remember all of our Pets.

 

1985 1998

She, regretfully, had to
be put to sleep on December 11, 1998

  

September 1986 September 1998

She, regretfully, had to be put
to sleep on September 12, 1998

  

January 2001

He, regretfully, had to
be put to sleep in January 2001

>..< Mommy and Daddy miss you so much, always remember that We Love You >..<

Waiting at the Gate

I explained to St. Peter
I'd rather stay here
Just outside the Pearly Gate.
I won't be a nuisance, I won't even bark or meow,
I'll be very patient and wait.

I'll be right here chewing
A celestial bone or celestial mouse
No matter how long you may be.
'Cause I'd miss you too much,
If I went in alone--
It wouldn't be heaven for me.

Dear Annie:
I lost my pet dog the other day. He was so special to me. I was just wondering if I would ever see
him again, or is his life just over? Every religion seems to have a different answer. — Wondering in Salem, Ore.

Dear Wondering: Here's one of our favorite essays that may provide some comfort:

Do Dogs Go To Heaven?
by the Rev. Dale Turner (1917-2006)

Looking back across the years 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 sobbed, "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, it 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."