For some years now my specialist subject in my books has been previous lives and how they affect current lives. This was because of a past life awakening experience I had some 14 years ago, and I had presumed that was all I should or would be writing about. When Hay House asked me to change subjects to that of pets and their souls, I was a little surprised, as if the universe had thrown me a curve ball. But it goes to show that the universe knows best, because as I started to write Pets Have Souls Too, I realized I was being returned to my roots with the subject that had been closest to my heart since my earliest memories of interacting with animals, aged 3 years old.
The more research I did and the more amazing true stories I came across about the connection between pets and their owners, the more I came to understand that here was my chance to write a book which would make a difference to the lives of animals, and how they are treated by humanity in general, which was what I’d always wanted to do. No-one with a heart could read these stories and not accept that in many ways animals are more spiritual than us, and should therefore be treated with respect and compassion.
People sometimes say to me that there is no mention of pets having souls or going to Heaven in The Bible. But that isn’t surprising and doesn’t mean they don’t. After all The Bible is a sort of instruction manual for humans to follow in order for them to achieve Heaven, but a pet wouldn’t be able to go to Heaven because of anything its owner could do to make it happen, so why would there be any instructions about it in the human instruction manual? If you still doubt, then try to imagine heaven that has no animals in it. It’s impossible.
The real question to ask, is what qualifies a living being to be admitted into heaven after they die? The simple answer to me is that they must have a soul, and to make this a reality they have to have shown the ability to love and to feel compassion. On December 4th 2008 a story was captured on a Motorway camera in Santiago in Chile.
At first sight the film looked like it was going to be just another tragic road victim tale, as a dog ran across the carriageways. Appearing to be in a blind panic the dog paid no attention to the continuous speeding traffic, and the inevitable soon happened. The poor dog was struck a glancing blow by two cars and was left, sprawled unconscious and obviously badly injured or dead, right in the middle of the carriageway. It looked as if this dog is soon to be reduced to a smear on the tarmac, the way we’re used to seeing ‘road kill’ on our roads after a few hours, reduced from living breathing creature to a greasy stain. But then on the edge of the camera’s range another dog appeared. It looked very similar to the other one, so you have to wonder if they were siblings.
The second dog paused for a moment as if assessing the problem, and then carefully made his way across the lanes of traffic to the prone dog. At this point, for me, it became quite surreal, as the rescuer dog didn’t grasp the injured one with his mouth, the way you would expect a dog to, but instead put a front leg either side of the victim from the front, his paws under the armpits, as you would see a human do when attempting to drag a heavy person. Then the dog, step by painstaking step, walked backwards across the motorway, looking carefully at the traffic each time it crossed a lane, still able to avoid the speeding cars, dragging his friend, until he reached the safety of the central reservation. Sadly, this miracle didn’t have a really happy ending, as the first dog had died on impact, and his rescuer ran away before the motorway workers, running to the scene to help, could take him in to be homed.
But, there are many things to consider in this story. How was the second dog able to assess the situation so intelligently? If he was just a ‘dumb animal’ how did he know that his friend needed rescuing? If he was incapable of love, then why would he care anyway? He was obviously very clever to be able to make it unscathed onto, across, and off the three lane road, but when he reached the other dog, he must have been able to sense that it was too late to save his life, and yet something drove him to still want his friend’s body off the road. Why would a dog care what happened to a dead body, and pull him so laboriously off the road instead of just saving himself? Did he want his friend’s body to be respected? If so, this is hardly the thought process of an irrational mind. Why did he use the totally human way of dragging the other dog, instead of grasping him with his teeth, which would have made his journey back much safer and quicker for him? Over and above all these remarkable questions, the biggest one of all remains; why did he embark on the rescue in the first place? There can only be one answer. He loved the other dog.
Some other easily observed characteristics that I believe demonstrates animals’ rights to be admitted to heaven are the following:
Animals are not judgmental about others, and they don’t prejudge others based on their personal appearance. They are not prejudiced against anyone of any race or sexual orientation or religious belief system.
An animal doesn’t care whether their companions are the same color or a different color to themselves. A black dog is treated exactly the same as a white dog, and of course this is only common sense, because under their fur and skin they are exactly the same.
Animals can still smell water and intuitively know what they need to eat to stay healthy, whereas a sense deprived human would die of thirst very quickly in a dry place, and would most likely eat poisonous plants without an instruction manual to help him.
Also human language has brought many benefits, but on the other hand it has moved us away from natural communication, by body language, which is of course the method of connection that animals rely on. We could truly learn a lot from our animal friends, not least of which would be to ask ourselves a little more often the question, ‘Who are we to say who does and does not, deserve a heavenly afterlife?’
This is my own story:
I stared down at the puppy, spread-eagled on her back in my arms. She grinned up at me, tongue lolling, eyes sparkling. Could this really be my old dog, come back to me in a new body?
When my wonderful soul mate dog, Ace, a Labrador cross German Shepherd, had got old, I’d lived in dread of saying goodbye to her, not least because she’d saved my life when she was two years old. Ill-treated as a puppy, Ace was difficult for the animal welfare people to re-home because she had a terrible scar on her chest, and people were afraid that others would think they’d caused it, so they didn’t want her. Their loss was my gain! Full grown, she became a big black guardian, and I’d loved her like a child. When she’d reached 12 years old, she’d gone through the trauma of having a mammary tumor removed from her stomach, losing a nipple in the process, but her indomitable spirit had pulled her through.
But, inevitably the dreaded time had come when she was fifteen. The once lively and proud dog had become a shadow of her former self, and despite agonising over the decision, I’d known it just would have been cruel to let her struggle on, just because I didn’t want to lose her.
I’d been devastated and had thought I’d never get over it. I was never, ever going through that again. No more dogs for me!
That’s what I’d thought, but Ace had known different.
Later that year my husband Tony and I took a trip to Sedona in Arizona, which is a magical, stunning place. While I was there on 13th September I had a reading with a psychic. She knew nothing about me, except that my name was Jenny. She gave me a very good and accurate reading and then asked did I have any questions? I asked if she had any messages from my parents, both passed over. ‘No’, she told me, but, ‘I have a message from your dog.’
She told me that a big black dog with grey whiskers (Ace had been very grey around her face by the time she’d died) had told her to tell me, ‘Today I’m young again.’
I thought she meant young as in rejuvenated in the spirit realm.
We’d come home and a clipping from the local paper advertising some puppies had caught my eye. Just before we’d gone away I’d admitted to being a bit ‘broody’ and thinking a puppy would be nice, but I’d put the paper aside as I couldn’t imagine loving another dog like I’d loved Ace. But, then I’d noticed that the puppies had been born on September 13th – the day Ace had told me she was young again, so curiosity forced me go and look. Tony and I made an appointment and went to a big old farmhouse to see the puppies. They were
Springer Spaniel cross Labradors – ‘labradingers’.
When the back door was opened, the stream of black and white puppies had all poured out into the sunshine, all except one. A small black bitch puppy made a beeline for me. She’d clambered up into my arms, and the farmer said, ‘That’s odd. She’s usually a bit shy that one.’ The puppy had wriggled in my arms, baring her belly for a tickle.
So this was why I now stared in astonishment. There, plain to see was a blank space where one of her nipples should be. Her perfect pink tummy was just smooth there. Just as Ace had been missing a nipple by the day she died, this puppy had been born with a nipple missing. And, she’d been born on the exact same day that Ace had told me, through the psychic, that she was ‘young again’.
This was no coincidence – I knew Ace had come back to me! We called her KC.
This was corroborated a while later by psychic artist June-Elleni Laine. Unasked, and knowing nothing of what had happened, she sent me a drawing of a puppy – clearly KC, and told me it had been sent to her by a black German Shepherd cross Labrador, who’d told her, ‘This is me now.’ That part of Ace’s soul that was still in spirit, had sent me the ultimate sign…
It still wasn’t over, because years later things still crop up that prove the point. Recently, now 6 years old, KC has developed a ragged ring of white hairs on her chest. The strange shape corresponds exactly with the scars Ace bore as a result of being scalded by her first owner.
© Jenny Smedley 2011