OKLAHOMA CITY — I’m not a dog person. At least that’s what I’ve always claimed.
But about three months ago, a basset hound named Frannie came to live with my wife, Tamie, and me.
Let’s just say that maybe I was wrong about at least one particular canine.
I love Frannie’s enthusiastic greetings when I come home from work and how she tries to sneak toys outside to bury in Tamie’s flower beds.
Sometimes I look at those droopy ears and into her soulful eyes, and I’m certain: All dogs go to heaven.
I first contemplated that old adage two-plus decades ago as religion editor for The Oklahoman, the daily newspaper in Oklahoma City.
But lately, I’ve wondered on a more personal level.
I know I’m biased, but it’s impossible not to love Frannie, who turns 6 on Sunday. She has the sweetest disposition in spite of a pretty rough first 5½ years of life. She came to us through a Tulsa-based rescue organization called Helpless Hounds.
Concerns about Frannie’s health, specifically a positive heartworm test, initially made my wife reluctant to proceed with the adoption. But then Tamie made the mistake — not a mistake at all, actually — of meeting Frannie via video when she was with a foster family. Any thought of waiting for a healthier pup was entirely forgotten.
Frannie was a little nervous when she came to us, and on her first day she even jumped into a bathtub trying to find a space that felt right.
“She doesn’t know how to be a pet,” Tamie lamented when Frannie first arrived.
But Frannie proved a quick learner, and within a couple of days she had mastered the art of living in a climate-controlled environment eating yummy treats, enjoying plenty of affection and sleeping in a fluffy bed Tamie made just for her.
When one of us walks into a room, she immediately lies down and rolls over on her back, expecting a belly rub. When she hears the sound of the garage door opening, she immediately heads to the pantry and waits … confident that one of us will walk through the door … and give her another belly rub.
On walks through the neighborhood, she insists that everyone she meets — from children exiting the school bus to UPS drivers making deliveries — stop and show some affection to her, preferably in the form of a belly rub.
Are you sensing a theme here?
“She’s got the funniest tail wags ever,” Tamie noted. “There’s the circle wag. There’s the half-wag. There’s the windshield-wiper wag. And there’s the thump-thump-thump when she’s just lying there being happy.”
Spoiler alert: Tamie is a bit smitten with this hound. Maybe I am, too, even though I’m not (allegedly) a dog person.
“She’s got the funniest tail wags ever. There’s the circle wag. There’s the half-wag. There’s the windshield-wiper wag. And there’s the thump-thump-thump when she’s just lying there being happy.”
Our adult daughter, Kendall, has a basset hound of her own, our “granddog” Frankie. Frankie is a little more rambunctious than Frannie, but they enjoy playing and wrestling with each other. I guess, technically, Frannie is Frankie’s aunt, although they are not related by blood.
As a Christian, I believe that Jesus died for my sins, and I’ll spend an eternity in heaven.
But will dogs be there, too? A creature as loving and innocent as Frannie definitely makes me curious.
People of faith hold widely differing beliefs on this subject. Some Christians say that animals, unlike humans, have no immortal souls, so they will not be resurrected. Others say that God made animals and insist all creatures will spend an eternity with him.
My friend Lisa Brewer, a member of the Wilkesboro Church of Christ in North Carolina, cared for her beloved Boone, a redbone coonhound mix, for over 11 years. Widespread cancer and congestive heart failure claimed his life earlier this year.
“I hope BooneDoggie found friends in heaven,” Brewer wrote in her prayer journal a few days after he died. “That’s ridiculous. He makes friends everywhere, probably more so in heaven.
“I hope BooneDoggie found friends in heaven. … He makes friends everywhere, probably more so in heaven.”
“He drew people to himself in a remarkable & magical way & cleared a path for me to be friends with them,” she added. “Probably, we wouldn’t have spoken otherwise! Boone was good like that!
“We should all be more like Boone & other good dogs.”
Maybe dogs don’t have souls, Brewer acknowledged to me.
Then again, she said, “Maybe they have better souls! After all, they have to demonstrate love and loyalty with actions, not words.”
If there are animals in heaven, Brewer predicts separate mansions for the cats.
Speaking of which, my friend Dan Williams, a retired preacher, professor and marriage therapist who lives in Tennessee, noted that nearly every congregation has a “cat lady.”
He joked that he told one such woman that “dogs will go to heaven, and cats will go the other direction.”
“When she started to protest, I said: ‘Think about it, Gayle. When have you ever heard of a dog rescuing someone from a burning house or fending off an attacker or helping to find a lost child? Any time you walk through the airport, you’ll see people using service dogs. Have you ever seen a service cat? Can you imagine a cat on a leash leading a blind person? Cats are selfish — that’s why I can’t imagine them in heaven.’”
Somehow, Williams told me, he and Gayle remained friends.
“We never did come to a firm conclusion on whether there will be animals — of any kind — in eternity,” he said.
My friend Steve Holladay has no doubt there will be.
Holladay, who leads a national ministry called Ultimate Escape, has owned a handful of Rottweilers that have helped in his presentations.
“If God works through dogs in this life to help accomplish his will, I imagine dogs also have a place in heaven,” Holladay told me, specifically mentioning two of his late beloved pets. “I don’t know about all dogs, but I’m expecting to see Baby Ruth and Legend when I get there.”
“If God works through dogs in this life to help accomplish his will, I imagine dogs also have a place in heaven,”
Count my wife among the believers that dogs — including Frannie — will find their way past the pearly gates someday.
“Animals are capable of love, and God is love,” Tamie said, explaining her reasoning. “We may be made in God’s image, but he knew we would need different kinds of companionship in life.”
And in the afterlife, too, many pet owners are sure.
I’m not certain, but I am hopeful.
Right, Frannie? You’re a good girl.
BOBBY ROSS JR. is Editor-in-Chief of The Christian Chronicle. Ross writes the Weekend Plug-in column for Religion Unplugged, where this piece originally appeared. Reach him at [email protected].
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