4 
Unconditional Love
From Beyond
Just as you cannot destroy energy, you cannot destroy love. When our pets cross over, they wait for us to join them, but they also can connect with us in different ways before that time and sometimes to save us. The souls of our pets do not die and they stay as our companions even in spirit, loving us just like they did when they were in the physical.
Forever Love
It was impossible to resist the white fluffy face in the pet shop window and I immediately ran inside to visit with him. I wasn’t a fan of pet shops, but after holding him in my arms I knew he was mine. There was no way I was leaving that mall without him.
I named the Great Pyrenees puppy Conan, after Arnold Schwarzenegger’s movie character. He was going to be a big boy, and sure enough he quickly grew into a 150-pound lapdog.
The Great Pyrenees was bred to protect livestock, people, children, and any other real or imaginary predators that may intrude within the confines of their space. The breed is nonaggressive, filled with unconditional love, even tempered, and a great family dog. I had two small children at the time, and Conan met all the breed’s finest qualities, including being gentle and patient. But he was a “fraidy” cat. He was afraid of everything from mice to squirrels to squeaky toys, but he was all filled with love.
When he was about five years old, Conan started acting strangely, so I took him to an emergency veterinarian who told me that Conan had heartworm. Although I had faithfully given him his medication, his primary doctor must not have calculated correctly due to his size, and he contracted the disease. There was just one treatment and that would require making sure he didn’t move for days, it was very expensive, and there were no guarantees it would work. My kids were still quite young, and I was a single mom working two jobs. It was a decision I didn’t want to make and then having to make it by myself was even tougher. The doctor promised that he wasn’t in any pain, yet.
“Take him home,” he told me. “Conan will let you know when it is time.”
A few months later, Conan went into kidney failure. I held his fuzzy white head and sobbed as the doctor helped ease his pain until he made his transition.
“You do know he goes to Heaven, right, Kristy?” the veterinarian said as I placed Conan’s favorite blanket atop him.
I swallowed hard and nodded, but at that moment I wasn’t convinced. Maybe I’m kidding myself, I thought, trying to make it all seem like it was better than it really was to cope. I was second-guessing death and the afterlife and everything I was being told and shown from the spirit world. Maybe it was all an illusion and I was being punked.
I had to take an hour of personal time away from my corporate job in order to attend the appointment. I pulled into work just before lunchtime, wiping my tears away as I got out of the car. The maintenance man saw me and waited for me to exit my car and get my belongings. Bart was a war veteran with a tough demeanor and a take-no-prisoners attitude. Most of the employees avoided him and almost all were afraid of him, but he was always kind to me. I usually offered him a smile and small talk, but I wasn’t in the mood, so I simply nodded my thanks as he held the door open for me. Bart immediately recognized the change in my demeanor and asked me what was wrong. Well, actually he sort of growled it.
I couldn’t talk, though, and I waved him off at first, but I finally admitted that I’d had to put my dog to sleep. Bart’s eyes glossed over with emotion and he took my hands and held them close to his chest in a tender way.
“The unconditional love our pets give us can’t ever be replaced with any human being. Know that he will always be in your heart, and I bet he will visit you as well. He will give you a sign, Kristy, I just know he will. He will show you that he’s okay and that what you did was okay by him. I just know it,” Bart repeated.
I thanked Bart and we slowly walked to the elevator in quiet. The elevator doors opened, we both got in, and I pushed the button for the third floor.
“When I was in the military, I was assigned Jack,” Bart confided. “He was a mutt of a dog. I never did figure out what breed he was, but he was loyal and smart. He was also good at sniffing out bombs.” Bart’s energy faded as you could see he was reliving painful memories. “Honestly, I think I was given him because nobody else wanted to work with me,” he laughed.
I smiled back at him, understanding that there was probably some truth to that with Bart’s ornery reputation.
“He woke me up one day whining, and the doctor said he had cancer. I was hoping that he had something in his paw or something, you know? Something simple. They told me that he needed to be retired and he would probably be put down soon after. They took him away from me.” Bart leaned up against the elevator wall and took a deep breath in, as if the memory still took his breath away. “I was called out for a mission not far from base. Kristy, my head wasn’t on straight. Hell, I’m not sure it is now, but it really wasn’t then. I leaned down on the ground and before I knew it Jack was there. I don’t know where he came from, or how he got there, but he was there, and he jumped in front of me and landed right on a live grenade. I was burned, right here.”
Bart pulled off his work gloves and showed me his left hand and arm. The elevator door opened to the third floor and we got out. I couldn’t believe I’d never really noticed his scars before.
“He saved your life, Bart!” I exclaimed in awe.
“That’s just it, Kristy.” Bart stopped next to the elevator and didn’t budge. He sucked in some air and continued, “I went back for his body or his tag or something …”
I wasn’t sure he’d ever shared this with anyone before. I could see in his eyes that he was re-living every moment, a moment that I believe he’d worked hard to forget.
“There wasn’t anything there. I got back to base and went to the veterinarian to give him a piece of my mind for letting him loose. The vet looked at me like I was on drugs. Jack had died early that morning.”
“You mean to tell me Jack’s spirit saved you, Bart? That’s amazing!”
“I wasn’t the only one who saw him either. Others did. This here.” He pulled a dog tag out of his blue work shirt. “This is his tag. I still carry him with me all these years. He’s the only one who hasn’t abandoned me. Even after death.” Bart wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled. “Ah, nuts. Well, that’s probably what you think of me anyway. Nobody has to believe me, but I know what I saw.”
“I believe you,” I whispered.
“You do?”
“More than you’ll ever understand, Bart.”
Although not professional, I gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek that made him blush.
Nobody in my office knew I was working as a professional psychic medium and doing work with law enforcement on missing persons and murder cases on the weekends. Not Bart, not anybody, but I was receiving a sign of validation from an unlikely person.
As if wanting to protect me, Bart walked with me to my office. My boss was rarely a compassionate person. When we passed him in the hallway, he began to yell at me for being late, even though I had the time off approved beforehand. Bart held up his hand in a defensive movement, as if to tell my boss not to start anything.
“Her dog passed away,” he said, continuing to guide me to my work area. I was afraid to look back at my boss, who was his superior too. Instead, I kept walking until I got to my desk and took a seat, but Bart didn’t leave.
“Have you ever heard the story of the old man and his dog?” he asked, grabbing a spare chair and taking a seat.
I knew I was supposed to get to work but Bart’s presence was making me feel better.
“An old man and his dog were walking along a country road, enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to the man that he had died. He remembered dying and he recognized his dog that had died several years before. He wasn’t sure where the road they were walking would lead them, but he felt compelled to continue onward:
“After a while, they came to a high, white marble stone wall along one side of the road. At the top of a long hill was a tall, white arch that gleamed in the sunlight. The gate was magnificent, made of mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate was pure gold. He smiled, they were surely at Heaven. The man and his dog walked toward the gate, but they were quickly stopped by a man sitting at a beautifully carved desk.
“‘Is this Heaven?’ the man asked, his dog sitting next to him.
“‘Yes, it is, sir,’ the man answered.
“‘I knew it! May we come in? It’s been quite a journey and we are both thirsty. Do you have water we might be able to drink?’ the man asked.
“‘You may come in, sir, but we don’t accept pets.’
“The man thought for a brief moment, but he couldn’t leave his dog. He thanked the gatekeeper, turned back toward the road, and continued in the opposite direction. After another long walk, he reached the top of another long hill with a dirt road with an old wooden gate. Sitting under a shaded tree was a man.
“‘Excuse me, sir, we are both very thirsty, do you have any water?’ the old man asked.
“‘There’s a well right over there,’ the man said, pointing within the gate. ‘Come on in and make yourself at home.’
“‘ And my friend is welcome?’ The old man gestured to the dog.
“ ‘Absolutely. There’s a bowl by the well,’ he said.
“They walked through the gate and there was an old-fashioned well and a bowl next to it on the ground. The man filled the bowl for his dog first and then took a long drink himself. When they were quenched, the old man and the dog walked back toward the man sitting under the tree.
“‘What is this place?’ the old man asked.
“‘This is Heaven.’
“‘It certainly doesn’t look like Heaven. I was just at a place down the road and the man there said that was Heaven.’
“‘Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That’s Hell.’
“The man thought for a moment, wondering if it was a test. ‘Aren’t you upset that they say they are Heaven?’
“‘No, it actually saves us a lot of time. They screen out the people who are willing to leave their best friends behind.’”
Bart finished the story with a proud smile. “Gandhi said that the greatness of a nation can be judged by the way its animals are treated. I never trust anyone who says they dislike animals. Ever.”
The remainder of the day I inundated myself with my work, sticking close to my desk. An hour before heading home, my boss walked by and simply said, “I get it. I’ve been there. Just go home, Kristy.” My tears started all over again and didn’t end for a few days. Maybe still haven’t.
Telling the kids was difficult, but the hardest thing was coming home each day after work only to remember that Conan wouldn’t be waiting with his wagging tail welcoming me home. Then the waterworks would begin all over again.
It was almost a year later when my son, Connor, called for me to come to his room.
“Mom, Mom, come here quickly. Come here, Mom! Conan is here!”
Connor was probably all of five years old, and I figured he was playing some game, but I went in and peeked in on him. Connor sat there, tears streaming down his face, while he petted the air. Or one would think. Connor was still in a toddler type of a bed and so if anyone with any weight sat on the bed, it sagged. Where Connor was petting, the bed sagged all the way down to the floor, yet not where Connor was sitting.
“Do you see him, Mom? Do you, Mom?”
I didn’t, but I believed him.
“He has to go now,” Connor said, giving Conan’s spirit one more pat on the head. Then the bed bounced back into place and Connor and I simply stared in awe.
That was more than thirteen years ago, and we haven’t been visited by Conan again. Although it technically wasn’t my visit, it was Connor’s visit, it helped me to believe that there is an afterlife for pets, and Conan was there.
Just a few months before Conan’s visit with Connor, Bart had passed suddenly from a massive heart attack. I’d like to think he had a heavenly hand in helping with the visit.
Hurricane Charlie
“Reston, your prostate cancer has spread to your bladder,” the doctor informed him. “You should probably call your kids. You’ll need some support. Do you understand the severity of this, Reston?”
Reston nodded all the while lying. Sitting on the hard exam table he tried to listen to his family doctor that he’d had for years, but he was just hearing static, as if his doctor was talking to him from under water.
Numb and confused, he walked away with paperwork outlining a treatment plan and a list of appointments he had to attend, starting the very next day.
He didn’t want to call his kids. He just didn’t want to bother them. They had kids of their own. Jobs of their own. Worries of their own. He didn’t want to add to their already full plates of stresses. After stopping at a restaurant for a hot roast beef sandwich and mashed potatoes, he made his way home, with cherry cobbler to go. Just as he walked in the door, his cell phone rang.
“Hi, Melody,” he answered, wondering if the doctor called her even though it was against policy.
“Hey, Dad, I need a favor,” she said from the other end. Before Reston could ask questions, she told him that she was on her way over and then hung up.
Reston put his cobbler in the refrigerator. He was never one for sharing anything. His ex-wife, the kids’ mom, often told him he was selfish, blaming it on him being an only child. He thought she was probably right, but he would never tell her that.
Melody busted through the door about ten minutes later with a fuzzy black dog in her arms.
“What the …?” Reston started to swear, but Melody simply handed over the animal to him.
“This is Charlie. We think he’s part Chow and something else, maybe Pomeranian.” Melody squinted, looking hard at the dog as if he was going to tell her.
“Oh, Melody, you don’t need another animal,” he scolded, pushing away the dog that was busy licking crumbs out of his beard.
“Exactly. That’s why you need to take him.”
Setting Charlie down on the kitchen tile, Reston furiously shook his head in opposition.
“Hey, what’s this?” Melody asked, picking up the packet he received from the doctor.
“Well, Mel, this is one reason why I can’t take your dog. You see …”
Melody wasn’t listening, though, she was busy speedreading through the paperwork. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me. Did you call Scott or Jack?”
“I just found out today,” he said, leaning down and petting Charlie’s belly.
“Well, Charlie’s housebroken and won’t be any trouble. I can help out too,” Melody said, grabbing her purse off the counter.
Reston smirked, clenching his jaw. Melody had a beautiful heart, but she always had too much on her plate and couldn’t always be relied on, a promise or not.
“I will help out, Dad, with both you and Charlie,” she said,wrinkling her nose at him, knowing he was doubting her. “I’ve got to go, though. Val needs to be picked up from volleyball and Brandon is at karate.” Melody gave her dad a big hug and kiss and patted the dog on his head. “Oh yeah, I have dog food in my car and some toys and blankets, too.”
“Wait, Melody. Where did Charlie come from?”
Melody held up her finger, motioning to wait a second. She ran to the car, coming back with an armload of supplies. Charlie ran over excited, his tail wagging while sniffing his food. She grabbed a cupful, put it into his blue bowl, and set it down.
“He was rescued from the flood waters of Hurricane Katrina. They said he was lying on the roof of the house for days until someone saw him.”
“So he belongs to someone,” Reston reasoned hopefully.
“Nobody claimed him, so either his owner died or is misplaced. Either way he needs a home, and for now he’s all yours.”
With a kiss on Reston’s cheek, Melody ran out the door, calling for him to let her know the next day how everything went with Charlie and his doctor appointment.
It didn’t take long for Charlie to make himself at home. Just as soon as Reston got his cherry cobbler out of the refrigerator and added some whipped cream, he walked in to see the dog laying on the couch, belly up and snoring.
“Mi casa es su casa, but move on over.” Reston laughed and skootched the fuzzy animal over, reaching for the television remote to search for a comedy or game show, something to simply take his mind off the crazy day.
Charlie promptly snuggled up against Reston, laying his head in his lap. He looked up at him with sorrowful puppy dog eyes and licked his lips.
“Here.” Reston scooped up some cherry cobbler with his fingers and let Charlie lick it. “You’re good, Hurricane Charlie. You’re good.”
Reston didn’t want to go to his morning appointment, but he knew the seriousness of it, especially when Janet, his ex-wife, called him right when he was getting into bed and scolded him for not talking to the kids. Kids, he laughed to himself. The youngest was thirty-three. He did, however, understand where Janet was coming from. Janet called that morning to remind him again.
“She never did trust me, Charlie boy. And no reason not to either,” he sighed.
It was the truth too. She always thought he was cheating or hiding money. The reality was it was Janet who was cheating and hiding money, and yet when he found out he couldn’t leave her. It wasn’t his way. It was her way, though, and she dutifully packed his bags and put them out on the porch.
“After twenty-five years of marriage. I even bought her the fancy anniversary ring she wanted, thinking that would make her happy. Nope.”
Janet told him that he emotionally left her and the kids years before and that made it okay. She just needed love. Maybe some truth to that too, but Reston didn’t spend a lot of time pondering it, at least that’s what he told everyone.
Charlie looked at him in understanding. He probably does understand, Reston thought. He was abandoned too.
“I’ll be back soon,” he called to the dog, who, instead of waiting, followed on his heels right outside. “No, Charlie, you have to stay. I’ll be back.” As Reston went to shut the door, Charlie darted out and sat next to Reston’s feet. “Fine. You can come. Maybe they’ll kick us both out.”
Charlie happily jumped into the car with Reston. Riding shotgun, Charlie pressed his nose up to the glass and took in the scenic view.
The hospital was only five miles away—too quick for Reston’s liking. Charlie jumped out of the car and walked beside his new master until they stopped at the front desk.
“Sir, he can’t come in with you,” the lady at the desk snapped.
“He’s a service dog,” Reston lied.
The lady pursed her lips, knowing all too well the truth. Instead of calling him out, she pointed to the doorway.
“Well, where did he come from, Reston?” his doctor laughed when he saw the dog sitting next to his patient.
“You told me to bring someone with me,” Reston said in a gruff voice.
The next hour was blood work, ultrasounds, and X-rays. There wasn’t a lack of a dog sitter for Charlie during all of it, but the doctor did tell him Charlie would have to stay home the next week when he had surgery.
“I’ll get you home as quick as I can, Reston,” he assured him, patting him on the shoulder. “Just remember that you have to bring a human with you that morning.”
Reston growled.
“Dad, you want me to take Charlie so you can rest?” Melody asked that same afternoon.
Reston didn’t want Melody to take Charlie. For some reason, he’d grown close to the beast in just a day. Reston planned a busy week for the two of them. Between drives, the dog park, playing Frisbee, sitting on the beach, and eating out, they explored the town.
“I think he’s done more with that dog than he ever did with you kids,” Janet told Melody on the phone the night before Reston’s surgery.
Janet was probably right, but what Reston wasn’t telling anyone was that he had a feeling he wasn’t going to make it through the surgery and that week wasn’t just fun with Charlie, it was a bucket list for himself in a way too.
Reston did make it through the surgery. A week later, he was home resting on the couch, Charlie’s head gently in his lap.
“All he did was cry for you, Dad,” Melody said, fussing with an afghan. “I can’t believe how much he’s taken to you.”
“You don’t think I’m lovable?” Reston snapped. He was happy to be home, but he was in pain and didn’t realize how rude he sounded until he said it.
Melody knew her dad’s gruffness and shook it off, not taking it personal.
“Touché,” Reston sighed, grabbing Melody’s arm as she placed the blanket across his lap. “Thank you.”
Melody didn’t ask for what, but she knew that her father wasn’t a thank you kind of guy and to just accept it. She smiled at him, turned away, and let the tears burn in her eyes. She was a lot like her father. Make sure if you cry it’s something worth crying over and don’t ever cry about it again, he would tell her growing up.
Despite aggressive treatments, the cancer didn’t subside. Reston grew so weak that, after a lot of arguing, he and Charlie moved in with Melody and her family. Just a week later, hospice was called in and Reston passed away with his Charlie dutifully curled up next to him. As soon as Reston took his last breath, Charlie began to whine and cry. He knew.
It was Janet who came into my office just a month after Reston’s passing. Although it wasn’t Reston she came to connect with, it was her ex-husband who stood in spirit right next to her.
“He shows me a wedding ring on his finger, Janet, which means he loved you. He never stopped loving you, he says.”
Janet paled and then her cheeks flushed. She bowed her head with an energy of shame. “I always blamed him for everything when it was really me. I guess we were just bad communicators.”
Reston wholeheartedly agreed with all parts of the statement.
“He shows me a black colored dog with him, Janet.”
“Oh, that’d be Charlie, probably. He’s staying with Melody still. I know he’s missed him. You know Melody took Reston’s favorite chair and Charlie will sit and stare at the chair, his tail wagging. It’s like Reston’s sitting there …,” Janet rambled and then realized I wasn’t really listening to her. “What’s wrong, Kristy?”
I squinted and asked Reston to repeat himself before answering. “Janet, he says that he’s holding Charlie. As in, Charlie is with him on the Other Side. The only way I see someone on the Other Side is if they’ve passed away.”
“Can’t be,” she said flatly. “I spoke to Mel this morning and Charlie was fine.”
I knew Reston could be difficult and not all spirits like to play by my rules of the reading, which included showing me those who’ve passed. Maybe, just maybe, pets could come across as passed even though alive, I thought silently.
“Well, please call Melody and have her keep an eye on Charlie,” I asked.
Janet agreed that she would do just that and we continued with our session, bringing through more of her friends and relatives she wanted to connect with.
I wasn’t surprised, though, when Janet called a few days later to tell me that Melody got up to find Charlie had passed away during the night. She found Charlie nestled in Reston’s chair.
“See, I was right,” Janet exhaled loudly. “He always had to have it his way.”
It’s easy to love and trust an animal, not so easy to love and trust humans. Pets give us unconditional love. They don’t judge or criticize us. They don’t care if we got the promotion or if we sing off-key in the shower. They simply love us and that love doesn’t disappear when their physical body is gone.
The late Charles M. Schulz, creator of the Peanuts comics strip, once said that “happiness is a warm puppy.” Reston and Hurricane Charlie are continuing their happiness on the Other Side.
Hurricane Katrina ravaged the Gulf Coast of the United States as a Category 3 hurricane in the early morning of August 29, 2005. With sustained winds of 100–140 miles per hour, stretching across 400 miles of the coast, breaching levees and flooding 75 percent of the New Orleans metropolitan area. Thousands of people and animals in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama were displaced from their homes. Although hundreds of volunteers worked tirelessly to rescue as many as they could, it’s believed that close to 70,000 pets perished. On the upside, close to 20,000 animals were rescued, however only 15 to 20 percent were ever reunited with their owners. The animals that weren’t claimed were transported to rescues all around the United States, in hopes that they could have a second chance for a forever family.