The Dogged Truth

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
Last Wednesday morning started off badly. I woke up and found that my dog of nearly 14 years, Maggie, had died.

This was not unexpected. Maggie had an inoperable tumor behind one eye that was slowly squeezing the life out of her. The day was drawing near, said the vet, when we would have to put her down. Still, upon seeing Maggie’s lifeless form where so much joy and love used to be, I felt a geyser of grief burst forth from some place deep inside me.

The chapters of my life are marked by the dogs I’ve loved. My first was a little terrier named “Bandit” for the patch of color that covered one eye. During seminary and early marriage, Bambi and I had two Irish setters, “Tillich” and “Tennille,” the one named for high-brow theology and the other for low-rent music, two of my passions then as now. After Whitney came along, we had a sleek, black lab mix named “Catra” for the “Princess of Power” action figure, then the rage.

But of all the dogs to grace my days, none was more loving, loyal, or long-lived than Maggie. For years we ran together, the two of us panting our way though hot Macon summers. She hated our pool, having fallen in as a pup, but loved to yap at her silent friend, the Polaris, trolling the depths of the pool, sucking up debris. At night, a rawhide chew or steak bone brought hours of sweet contentment. But the best part was the way Maggie always lit up with joy at the sheer gift of my presence. Until the very end, she never lost that, but now she has and I have too.

Now Maggie lies at rest in the woods behind my house. Her grave is well marked and I will visit it from time-to-time. As to what becomes of beloved pets when they die, the internet is full of the assurance they live on in God’s nearer presence. By contrast, the Bible is silent on the question, though there can be no doubt animals are even more beloved by God than they are by us.

The creation story abounds with animals, all of which are God’s exquisite handiwork; animals are trotted onto Noah’s Ark while most of the rest of the world is lost in the flood; the humane treatment of animals is a staple of the biblical revelation (e.g., Deuteronomy 25:4; Proverbs 12:10; Jonah 4:11); Jesus said the Heavenly Father notes the sparrow’s fall, while the promise the lion and the lamb will lie down together is a central premise of the New Creation (Isaiah 11:6; 65:25).

Does this mean Maggie is “in heaven”? As much as I want the answer to be “yes,” Jesus never made any such promise. But I do know the promise of a new heaven and a new earth means that much God (and we!) love about this world, gone so terribly wrong, will be redeemed and restored. As to what that means for the plot of ground where my beloved Maggie now rests, I don’t presume to know. But on resurrection morning, God willing, I’ll be there to see.