Do Dogs go to Heaven?

Unequivocally, I believe the answer to that question is yes.

I would like to think that the companionship, the unconditional love and devotion that a dog shares with its human masters, give us a glimpse of what God's true love for his children is.
"In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind"
- Book of Job, Chapter 12, verse 10.

In recent weeks, two of my neighbors had to put down their beloved pets, as did a blog acquantaince have to put down a friend who wasn't all that old, yet had congenital painful conditions. Then yesterday I read another blogger's post concerning the loss of a canine friend.

In May 2003, I took the best friend I ever had, Fred the dog, to the vet. He was 16 years and 5 months old. He had deteriorated quickly in a matter of days. He couldn't control his bowels, and when I tried to bathe him, I found a large purple lump on his belly, that I hadn't noticed only two weeks earlier when I had last bathed him.

Fred had been fighting various illnesses for over 3 years. I knew what was coming, but I still hoped it wasn't. My buddy dog was in a great deal of pain, barely able to stand and whimpering incessantly. The vet told me there wasn't much to be done. Pain medication was an option, but his time was extremely limited.

I looked my buddy in the eyes and told the Vet I knew it was time. They gave me a few minutes, while I held him, talked to him, told him what a good friend he had been. I held him firm while they inserted the intravenous line, and I nodded when the Vet asked if I was ready. Fred didn't struggle, but he seemed to stare at me in gratitude that I was doing what I thought best to ease his suffering. After all the love he had given me, it was the least I could do.
I was still looking into his eyes as he went limp and the light of love that had shown so brightly for so long flickered out and dimmed to nothingness.

I believe that Dogs go to heaven, they are part of God's creation, and they await us there as much as any other friend or relative. With that in mind, I can't help but wonder if there are more dogs in heaven than people. I don't believe that God plays favorites, but with the wonderful relationship that exists between humans and dogs, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that God was a "dog person."

Today's lesson in Gym Etiquette

I belong to a gym. I go there 4, sometimes 5 times a week. One of my favorite things to do after working out is to sit in the jacuzzi for 20 minutes and rest my tired legs. I do a lot of walking around the Warehouse each day, and having bad knees and a titanium right hip, I ache a bit by the end of the day. My gym has an Olympic size pool with lap lanes, and swimming laps for a half hour is great low impact exercise for me.

Using the Jacuzzi is also great therapy after a couple of hours of pushing a lawn mower around on the hills of Fairview Cemetery. It is great for soothing joint pain. I've belonged to that gym for a couple of years now, but last month I made my first complaint. Why?

I was sitting in the jacuzzi with a couple of the other regular members, talking baseball, when a guy I will only describe as a "JERK" comes in, his face fully lathered with Shaving cream. He takes a seat, and calmly starts shaving, flicking his razor in the very water in which we were sitting.

We protested, but he shrugged, saying, "hey, it's got filters." Well, we all climbed out, and I went to the check in desk after showering and dressing, and informed them of the miscreant's behavior. One of the things I like about this gym is that they regularly clean everything. It's not uncommon to go there Sunday afternoon and find the jacuzzi closed, because they are cleaning it.

Anyway, upon reporting the disgusting behavior, I learned that there was a similar problem in the ladies locker room, with women shaving their legs in the jacuzzi there. Amazing, isn't it? Now there are signs, saying please don't shave in the jacuzzi, and there was a write up in the Club's Monthly newsletter.

So you think that is disgusting? Guess again. Sunday Afternoon I come out of the shower, and am heading back over to my locker, when I see a guy using the hand held hair dryer on his CROTCH. Yep, he was combing and drying his pubic hair with the electric hair dryer.

Now I'm bald, I'm never using that appliance anyway, but the mere thought of using a the same hair dryer everyone else uses (with comb attachment) on one's groin area is horrifying to consider, at least for me. I guess I could understand some women using it that way, in the privacy of their own home, but a guy, in PUBLIC?! As a guy, I have never, and would NEVER, have thought of doing such a thing. (I don't want anything electrically powered anywhere near me, if you get my hint.)

So here is my gym etiquette lesson for today:

Please don't use the common hair dryer on your private area, EVER! It's just not nice, and you never know who used it before you, or what they might have used it on. Plus you never know what can happen with electricity, and that should be considered as well.

Bowling Alley Dreams

I have a recurring theme on my dreams. Some of the most vivid and memorable take place in a Bowling Alley. In fact, it is a specific Bowling Alley that I worked in and out of for over 6 years.

It was a 50 lane super center, and has since closed. I've had some pretty detailed dreams involving this place, but the latest was a doozy.

On my latest, I had died, and my job in the afterlife is to work there, and keep the incoming deceased who want to bowl while waiting to get into line for their "entrance interview" for Heaven happy.

My first thoughts about this are that I am damned.

Yep, damned.

Because nobody at the Purgatory Bowl (and that's what I've decided to call it) is happy with the lane conditions. The waiting customers seem to think that they should be able to throw a strike every time, just because they're dead. They also want their beer cold, and to be able to smoke all they want.

I hate to break it to them, but it's purgatory, or limbo, or wherever the hell I am (Maybe it is hell, I grew to hate working nights at that lanes) and not Heaven.

Anyway, that's my dream, except last night it had a twist. I had made it out of the Bowling Alley and was playing golf with my Dad. It was great! We were about down to the 12th hole, (I specifically remember it to be the 12th) when some guy showed up and said I had to go to a meeting.
Next thing I know, I'm standing at this table, and my wife and some of her friends (all still living) are sitting on the other side, and they are crying, and there's this psychic lady asking me questions. I'm giving her answers, but she's smirking and telling my wife exactly the opposite. Then the guy who dragged me to the meeting says I have to stay on earth as a spirit until I get it all worked out.

Then I woke up.

Is that not a fouled up dream, or what?

A couple of other notes... all my dogs from my life are regularly in my dream, and they are all happy to see me. This makes me think that I'm in a good place, but I had cats too, and I don't remember seeing any of them. I'm wondering of maybe I should lay off the coffee before bed?

Coming up Next: What I saw a guy do with a blow dryer at the gym today. And I thought the idiot who shaved in the jacuzzi was bad, wait until you read what this guy did.

Lucy and Ethel: Not Blogging

Lucy is on the left, Ethel on the right. I took this last week before mowing. we have invisible fence, and they are both 12. They are pretty well behaved, and not all that inclined to test the boundaries.

After what I saw and wrote about this morning, I felt like posting a picture of happy, peaceful, contented puppy girls.

Lucy, if she could blog, would probably detail her need to have food available at all times. Ethel, as you know, is the shopper of the household. Sally, who has A.D.D., could not be bothered to blog, she's too busy chasing her tail.

Friday Morning Sorrow

My Morning went to hell at 5:20 AM. I was on 309 heading south just north of Quakertown, and the new WaWa, when it happened. I saw a dog, a golden retriever trot out into the road in front of me. I hit the brake and slowed. The truck in the left lane beside me did not. He hit the dog full speed and never stopped. The dog landed on the side of the road in a manner that I knew indicated instantaneous death. I pulled over and went to it. It had no collar, no tags, no anything. Just a big, lovable(?) Golden retriever, dead on the side of the road, her eyes (It was a female) open in blank emptiness. Did she realize what happened to her? Did she feel pain? Is there some family somewhere who wonders where their friend and companion went, and is worried about her? I grabbed her limp rear legs, and dragged her completely off the road, and up into the grass. She's still visible to passersby, so maybe someone will see her and recognize her, but her body won't suffer the indignity of further injury from strikes by more vehicles.

The possible circumstances are numerous, but I let the tears flow as I got back in the car and continued on to work. I know how I would feel if that happened to one of my dogs. Sure it could have been a stray, but you don't see many Golden's running wild. It's been bugging me all morning, so I sat down at my break and wrote about it. If I hadn't seen it, and that big wagging tail seconds before the life was ended, I probably would have thought nothing of another animal dead on the road. But I did see it, and it was so senseless, so heartless. The Trucker didn't even slow down. Maybe he didn't even notice at all that he hit her.

Maybe that's the analogy I'm trying to find, that we are running things over in our lives, and don't realize the consequences of what we don't see, and what we have lost. What a crappy way to end what had been a pretty productive week.

10 PM update: When I drove home from work in the PM, the body was gone. I hope that it was retrieved by her family, but I don't know.