If there is one question I am asked more frequently than any other it is whether our companion animals are waiting for us in the afterlife levels. Some people lead with a personal challenge: “If my dogs can’t be there, I’m not going!” I understand how they feel. A heaven without our animal friends would not be a heaven at all, so I’m delighted to report to you that every animal we ever have loved awaits us in a beautiful eternal reality where love never ends.
There are many things about the afterlife that we can say are more than likely, based upon nearly two hundred years of abundant and consistent afterlife evidence. This is one thing, though, of which there is no doubt.
Animals are of a fundamentally different spiritual nature than human beings. I have seen messages from channeled entities saying that animals are of a “purer” nature, but I’m not even sure what that means; I know only that animals have spiritual identities, and those identities are unique to each kind of animal. When creatures die in the wild, or when domestic animals die without a close human bond, they return to what is sometimes called a “group soul” that is specific to their species. However, when any kind of non-human creature develops a love-bond with a person, that animal develops a separate identity. It enters our afterlife levels as a young and healthy version of itself, and there it awaits the joyous day when it can again lick our face or perch upon our finger or jump up, purring, into our arms.
You can immediately see a problem. People who enjoy their animal companions will love many cats or dogs or birds in their lifetimes, and the evidence suggests that all of them are going to be waiting for their human friends. There are early-twentieth-century communications where someone who has been in the Summerland for awhile complains about the mob of dogs and cats that greeted a new arrival, and nothing would do but that she first must pat every one of them before human loved ones could get near enough to hug her.
It isn’t only beloved dogs and cats and parakeets that await us, but farm and circus animals that have been loved by a human being likewise develop independent minds sufficient for them to be waiting in the Summerland. I have just had a wonderful reading with a psychic medium, my first in more than a decade, and my relatives and guides chose to assemble on my grandparents’ dairy farm. The medium kept remarking about how beautiful the farm was, and how abundant were the dairy cows, each one of which must in life have been a special pet of my grandfather’s.
Sometimes our animals will be among the deathbed visitors who help us transition. Reports of dogs at deathbeds are common. One early-twentieth-century hermit who had trusted no human being in life reportedly was met at his deathbed by a big white horse he must at some point have loved.
Our animals often give us post-death signs and communications. A familiar bark or meow, a rub against a leg, or a cold nose against an arm: these are frequent little signs. Animals that had slept on our beds will sometimes continue to do that, so we might be reading or watching TV and we will distinctly feel the animal jump up onto the bed and then see and feel the little paw-indentations as the animal walks to its sleeping place, where we will see and feel the greater indentation as the animal curls to sleep beside our feet. Full-blown visions of animals are rare, but they can happen, too.
My most extraordinary animal communication was a visitation dream from my horse. There was Beau in harness in front of me, pulling the cart in which he and I had enjoyed exploring the dirt roads near our home. He was trotting along happily, and I was in rapture. The only problem with driving a horse is the bugs in your teeth because you can’t stop grinning. Then we had, one after another, three encounters with diesel eighteen-wheelers that had no business on wilderness roads. Each time, as the truck bore down on us, I steered Beau into the roadside bushes and fast jumped out of the cart to hug his head against my chest so he wouldn’t bolt as the truck roared past us. As the third truck – perhaps his death – was approaching, I woke up.
That had been a communication dream, but what had it meant? In minutes, I knew. We had moved twice during his lifetime, and Beau was thanking me that he had been kept safe during both of the moves of his life and gently cared for until he died. After that dream, I have decided that I won’t ride or drive a horse again until my friend and I are reunited and I can have bugs in my teeth forevermore.
The fact that simply being loved by a person can give an animal an independent existence is one more indication of two things that the afterlife evidence consistently tells us. Our minds are integral parts of the eternal and infinitely creative Mind that brings forth the universe. And of every power that exists, by far the greatest power is love.