All Good Dogs

When I first moved to Kansas City over 20 years ago, I often heard people say, "If you don't like the weather, just wait five minutes and it will change." I didn't fully understand that statement until I experienced a day when the weather went from foggy and cool to sunny and hot to windy and muggy to the tornado sirens blaring to cold and snowing ... honestly ... all within one day. If there's one thing you can count on in Kansas, it's that you can't count on the weather. So I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that I drove home on Saturday after visiting Matt and Becca and C.J. with the windows on my car open enjoying the warm summerlike temps, and then last night I sat at an outside soccer game freezing even though I was dressed in three layers, had on a down vest and was sharing a blanket with my friend. Yep, driving down the interstate at 75 miles per hour with the windows down one day and freezing my tail off while sitting outside the next. You just gotta love Kansas weather, friends, you just gotta love it.

While we were watching her daughter play soccer (in shorts and a short-sleeved t-shirt ... I still can't believe all the girls who were playing didn't turn into ice pops right before my eyes), my friend asked me if I had read the book "Heaven is for Real." I said that I had, and she said that she just read it yesterday. I asked if she thought it was true, and I must admit that I was a bit surprised when she said that she did. When she asked me what I thought, I was quick to reply ... "The little boy says there are dogs in heaven." I couldn't help but smile when she agreed and said, "But he doesn't say there are cats." Me being a huge dog person and knowing that she's got a cat ... oh yeah, that made me smile for sure. And then I grew serious again and said, "If it's true that good dogs go to heaven, I know one who's there." She said, "Oh, yes, he's there." I nodded as my eyes filled with tears, and I said, "If he's there, I bet he's waiting for me. I like that the boy said we know each other and that there are dogs ... I like that a whole lot."

As she went on to talk about some other things from the book, my mind raced back to the gray Saturday afternoon when I lay stretched out on my couch reading the book. I sobbed when I read about the dogs in heaven ... I sobbed thinking about my little J.R. and the way he saved my life. I sobbed thinking about him in heaven ... running and playing and free from pain. I sobbed thinking about the day I would see him again ... I could picture him when I arrived ... tail wagging, jumping into my arms and licking my face, so happy to be with me once again. I'm sure my friend sensed where my mind had gone ... she perhaps more than anyone knows the sorrow that permeated my heart the day J.R. died ... she took us to the animal hospital that Sunday morning ... she came into the room as they took J.R.'s lifeless little body from my arms ... she listened to my gut-wrenching sobs as she drove me home ... she knew that J.R. and I shared a very special bond, a bond that was God-ordained, God-sent, God-blessed. As I shivered in the cold and wiped my misty eyes, my friend patted my arm and said again, "He's there."

I don't know if it's true that there are dogs in heaven; in fact, there's way more about heaven that I don't know than what I do. And while there are definitely things that I wonder about concerning heaven, there's one thing I know for sure ... heaven will be the most wonderful, most perfect, most incredible place ever. I do indeed believe that heaven is for real and that it's only because Jesus died for me that I have the hope of going there one day.

Hey, God ... if all good dogs go to heaven, then I know my little fat buddy is there. If it's not too much to ask, would You give him a hug for me and tell him that when I get there, we'll go for a long walk on the trail? You know which trail I'm talking about, Father ... the one that's right next to the street that's paved with gold.