They become part of the family so quickly.  They claim our hearts with a wagging tail and a wet kiss that usually smells of dog food and they wait for us to come home and sleep on our laps when we are home.  My “Fur Baby”, Samson was a tiny bundle of energy that was appropriately named.  He feared nothing except our vacuum cleaner.  Then he’d hide in a closet until the infernal contraption was finished it’s loud cleaning job around the house.

Samson was our daughter’s first “baby” and when they moved to seminary housing where pets were not allowed, she begged us to take him for a “couple of years” until they were done seminary and could reclaim him back.  A “couple of years” turned into seven and we became Samson’s adopted parents.  Admittedly, I was the one who was reluctant to give him back, even when they could take him again.  He had become MY fur baby.  Interestingly enough, even though I fed him and loved on him, my husband, who was more aloof towards him became Samson’s favorite.  Charles was pestered by Samson until he got his “treat” in the morning.  Samson waiting patiently for him to come home at night and Samson slept on his lap when Charles was settled in his favorite chair.  Samson went camping with us, loved car rides and playing with his squeaky toys.  He enjoyed running through the house chasing birds that flew past our windows.  It was irritating but it was his way!

On Saturday, while on his rope, only a few feet from our back door, our little Samson was attacked and killed by two massive coyotes.  I am haunted by the horror of the attack and the grief of losing our precious pet so violently.

It was my husband who so tenderly attended to Samson after and tried to comfort me at the same time.  It was my youngest daughter who quietly, calmly went through the house and collected all of Samson’s squeaky toys and put away his little bed.  I was too grief-stricken to do so.  The heartache of loss permeates me to the core.  Coming home and knowing I will not be greeted by his happy face and welcoming tail wag anymore overwhelms me with sadness.

There are some that believe that because animals (pets) do not have souls, they do not experience heaven upon death, but I don’t believe that.  I believe that animals do not need to be “saved”.  They have no need of a “Saviour” because they do not deal with sin and disobedience to God.  Their “god” is their people master (s).  Animals have pure hearts.  They act instinctively, and do what their masters tell them to do.  It is our responsibility to treat them with kindness and discipline them like fragile children.  We are not to be their task masters, nor are we to treat them like our slaves.  They live for our love.

I picture a heaven where we will be reunited with those we love and for me that includes my beloved pets.  I base that on a couple verses of scripture:  Luke 3:6 “And all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” ESV  and Isaiah 11:6  “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together; and a little child shall lead them.” ESV

My arms ache to hold my fur baby, Samson again, and other pets who I have had to let go of during my life time, and I am comforted in the belief that I will be reunited with them in heaven.

For now, I will go home to a very quiet and very lonely house and with a longing and aching heart miss my Samson.