Recently someone asked me if I thought our pets might be with us in heaven.
The short answer?
I don’t care.
The longer answer?
Not any of the pets I grew up with.
Except maybe Rocky, the parakeet I had when I was in the second grade. We didn’t name him Rocky because of his Italian heritage. It’s really hard to tell if a parakeet is from Italy. He got his name because he was tough, and occasionally liked to fight Russian parakeets while dancing to James Brown.
At one point, my toddler brother Will pulled out all of Rocky’s tail feathers and placed him inside my He-man Castle Greyskull. Rocky took that horrible incident with a quiet dignity that might be enough to earn him a trip to bird heaven.
Rusty, my dog? I don’t know about that one. His favorite game was called “run away from home,” followed closely by his second favorite game, “No, I will not get into the car when you finally find me across town running through a neighbor’s yards.”
Although, in his defense, he did protect me from a drunk guy my dad let sleep in our house. He was trying to break into our car for a spot to sleep, and my dad, being the consummate pastor, said, “No, sleep downstairs on the couch.” I was the only one in the family who had a bedroom downstairs, so that night Rusty stood watch outside my door. So that’s something, I guess. But then, Rusty ended his illustrious career at the Acuff house by biting the mailman, getting shipped off to a farm, killing a few kittens, biting a few other people, and eventually passing away. Not sure I’m going to see Rusty in heaven.
Che, my brother’s ferret? Nope. That is an easy one. He won’t be in heaven.
Named after, you guessed it, Cuban revolutionary Che Guevara, that ferret was the worst pet we ever had. That I can tell, his only trick was going to the bathroom in the living room, which now that I think of it, was pretty revolutionary.
I might have been able to forgive him if he had protected our family from the other pets my brother decided to get: snakes. You really haven’t lived until you’ve heard the sentence, “The snake got out again. Keep your eyes out in the house. He’s bound to show up.”
And show up he did, late one night when a house guest was going to the bathroom. As he made his way past the laundry room, my dad’s colleague saw what he thought was a long, dark belt on the floor. Until it started to crawl toward him. Soooo, probably not going to see that snake in heaven.
Maybe I’ve just never had super awesome pets, and your pet will be in heaven. Or, maybe there won’t be specific pets, but just lots of available golden retrievers in heaven that you can play Frisbee with. That would pretty awesome. Is that in Revelations anywhere? Can someone please Google that? “Frisbee playing golden retrievers in heaven?” Thanks.
What do you think? Will there be pets in heaven?