Are our Furbabies really in that grave or urn--or are their spirits at Rainbow Bridge, another term for Heaven?

First, let me say that I'm convinced that the anonymous person who wrote the Rainbow Bridge poem was truly inspired by God. So was Ginny (Fificat) Brancato for starting this site!

Just last night, I had an online conversation at this site with another bereaved mommy of a Furbaby who was heartbroken because she didn't have the money to get her sweetheart's urn back. I had just buried my beloved kitty Anthony, my best friend, right under my kitchen window.

Another sweet Furbaby's mommy was haunted by the look in HER Furbaby's eyes as the needle went in that would take this suffering animal home to Rainbow's Bridge. She felt like a villain when, in fact, she was an unselfish heroine who cared more for her Furbaby's well-being than for her own desire to keep Furbaby here with her.

I'd like to touch on two things: First, Nobody's Home in the grave or urn. What each holds is the SHELL of your dear Furbaby, to which you want to give honor and respect, but not his or her spirit--the essence which made them so loving and faithful to you! We all know animals were created with instinct, but did you ever notice, if you are a multiple pet owner, how different each of their little personalities are? I remember my dear landlady in NY, who works with animal organizations and has many, many kitties, saying just that and it was quite true.

When the mailman found my Anthony around the side of the house, he was in full rigor mortis, which means he had passed away at least twelve hours earlier. He was curled up in an upright position and must have appeared to the casual passer-by to be simply sleeping. When I turned him over, his eyes were slightly open and they markedly lacked the sparkle and shine they held when he was alive. The light had literally gone out of them, just as surely as if God had turned off the light switch. By the grace of God, I found a web site that answered the question on my mind, which stated that after death in sleep, the eyes usually open. My precious sweetheart had a good death in his sleep. But there was no doubt in my mind that Anthony himself was no longer home in his outer shell.

I recently moved from NY to VA. In NY I have an empty grave waiting for me right next to that of my husband and dear only child, a son who died in a car accident at 17 in 1997. If I thought they really abided in those graves, I never could have left them.

Let me give you an example. Your very best friend, who knows more about you even than your husband and family, and has held you up through many trials and tribulations, moves away. Her husband got transferred to sunny Florida and will be making four times the money he got at his old company. Each day, you walk down to the small, shabby house she lived in. You stand outside, remembering all the good times, thankful for how she carried you through all life's bumps and bruises. If you knocked on the door, would she still be there? No, of course not. She's in a beautiful, sunny, warm place living in a mansion. Would you be selfish enough to bring her back to that shabby little home just so she could be close to you and comfort you? No, of course not. You'd wait to be able to fly out to see her where she was now.

We were given the Great Commission to preach the Gospel to every creature. St. Francis took this literally and preached many sermons to animals and birds.

I saw the most beautiful sight I ever saw in NY on my way to work. There was a beautiful statue of Jesus with His arms outstretched. One morning, hundreds of birds sat in a throng in front of that statue, just as if they were listening to a sermon.

When I buried my Anthony yesterday, I gave him back to God. I thanked my Heavenly Father for him, telling him that surely Anthony was a good and perfect gift. (James 1:17) I asked Him to give Anthony into my son Thomas's care, who loved kitties.

I think this had already happened because on the day before the mailman found Anthony, I had three quick pictures flash across my mind: St. Anthony holding Anthony, his namesake, St. Anthony holding Baby Jesus, who was petting Anthony, and finally, St. Anthony holding MY son as a baby, who was smiling and petting Anthony.

Don't let me step on your toes if you're not Catholic or even Christian. God is there for all of us! Thank Him for your Furbaby YOUR way, ask Him to place your Furbaby at Rainbow Bridge in Heaven or with a family member, and ask Him to show you the way Home and to comfort you. Believe me, He will!

It says in the Bible that all tears will be wiped away. No less than John Wesley and the still-living Jack Van Impe believe that our animals go to Heaven. Jack Van Impe said one simple request to Jesus to have your pet in Heaven will do the trick, since God will withhold no good thing from us.

What animated your Furbaby and what made him or her special, left at their passing.

Revelations 21:4 tells us in the King James Version: And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

Neither we nor our Furbabies will remember ANYTHING bad whatsoever. The only memories we will have are the good ones! It doesn't matter how they died, how tragic or painful it was, BECAUSE THEY WON'T REMEMBER! They'll only remember all the love you gave them and all the good times you had.

Blessings and peace,
Judy