Animals and the Afterlife (44 page)
I wanted to
be there
for them and to assist them in going to the Light, continuing their journey in spirit. I began calling in the assistance of spiritual helpers on the Other Side, including animals who had gone before, to assist at each passing. It really seemed to make a difference, and over time, there were fewer tragedies and more peaceful passings. Of course, each passing is unique, and all we can do is make the best of each situation as it comes. If we can’t be there with them physically, for whatever reason—if they’re in surgery or we’re out of town or whatever the situation may be during those final moments—we can still be with them in spirit, even after they’ve passed, sending them our love telepathically; and they
will,
indeed, receive it. It’s never too late.
As the years passed, I always did my best to make it okay for my own beloved companions to go when it was their time to leave. I tried to let go, for
their
sake. However, I didn’t usually succeed, and in those final moments, I often found myself screaming, “No!” and begging them to stay.
Just recently, when yet another exceptionally sweet rat, Samson, was dying, instead of begging him to stay, I felt that he
really
needed assistance in leaving. He was gasping for breath and was clearly suffering. I held him close and did my best to comfort him, praying that he be relieved of his suffering. It was late at night, so Jameth called an emergency animal hospital and inquired about having Samson euthanized. At that hour, there were no vets available for a house call. The woman on the phone said we could bring Samson in to be euthanized. When Jameth asked what method they would use to euthanize a rat, she said they would administer an injection in the heart; so Jameth asked if we could have Samson gently anesthetized first, to ease his passing.
“There will be an extra charge for that,” the woman said coldly.
“I don’t
care
how much it
costs
,” Jameth replied. “I just don’t want him to suffer.” He then asked if we could be there with Samson until the end. The woman said she didn’t think so but would ask the vet on duty. I had an uneasy feeling. I prayed for guidance. I checked in with Samson, who was still gasping and struggling for breath. Suddenly, it was perfectly clear what we should do.
“We’re not going anywhere,” I told Jameth as I headed over to the living room. I turned on some soft, soothing music and sat down on the sofa with Samson. Jameth joined us. We stroked Samson’s soft fur, comforted him, and told him how much we loved him. I asked St. Martin de Porres to please help this precious little rat. I asked the other rats who had gone before him to please join us and escort Samson to the Other Side. I told Samson he had nothing to fear; that he could simply jump out of this painful, worn-out body and he would be free in spirit. He would be welcome to return to us anytime if he so chose. I emphasized that his body was merely a vehicle that was no longer serving him, and that he could simply leave it behind and he’d be fine.
“Go to the Light, Samson.” I told him. “It’s okay to leave. You don’t have to suffer any longer. You can just leap right out of your body, and you’ll be fine. Just jump out!” And with that, little Samson literally jumped forward with all his might … and he was gone. Just like that. I felt his spirit leap out and up, and I felt nothing but peace and love from him. Of course, I still cried over his vacant body, as good-byes such as these are always bittersweet. But I came away knowing that something good had just taken place. Samson had joined his friends in spirit, and I had finally learned how to say good-bye.
Each being is sacred—meaning that each has inherent value that cannot be ranked in a hierarchy or compared to the value of another being.
—S
TARHAWK
O
NE OF THE HIGHLIGHTS
of each day in my home is what has come to be known as Happy Hour. Each evening shortly before bedtime, all of the rats anxiously line up just inside the gate to their room. I open the gate, and out they come, running playfully up and down the hallway, while I tidy up their room and put out recycled paper towels for them to make nests with overnight. I then take time to sit and commune with each of them as they climb onto me to deliver rattie kisses.
The ending of Happy Hour is signaled by the arrival of a large bowl of organic fruit or other treats—usually sliced bananas sprinkled with various herbs. As soon as I call to them to come and get their treats, they all run excitedly back into their room and up the long ladders and ramps to their dining table, where their favorite snack awaits them. They enthusiastically dig in. Some stop to eat, while others collect and stash their evening goodies in various parts of the room.
As soon as everyone is back in the Rat Room and their gate is closed, I stand just outside the room and watch their antics, always amused and cheered by this nightly ritual, regardless of what the day has brought my way.
One evening as I looked on, I noticed that Madeline was having trouble getting her share of bananas. Madeline was an ancient Siamese rat who was blind and partly crippled. Old age had been coming on for quite some time, and it now hit me that she didn’t likely have many days left in her worn-out body. Many of the younger rats were running off with all the banana slices, while Madeline was having trouble getting to the bowl for her fair share. I feared that the other rats would steal all the food and Madeline would be left out, so I moved to go in and help her out.
Before I even got inside the gate, I watched in amazement as one of the younger rats took a banana slice, headed over to Madeline, and put the banana right in front of her. The younger rat then headed back to the bowl, got another banana slice, and again placed it in front of Madeline.
The youngster continued in this manner until Madeline had a pile of banana slices all to herself, which she began eating with vigor. Then her young caretaker found a fresh paper towel and placed it gently over Madeline and her stash, protecting her from the other rats who might be tempted to steal the remaining bananas. The little hero then sat in front of the concealed Madeline and stood guard, ensuring that Madeline and her stash were left undisturbed until she had enjoyed every morsel.
I then realized that Madeline didn’t need my help at all. She already had a friend who was looking out for her. And I was reminded once again—as I had been so many times before—that animals are indeed capable of selfless acts of compassion. In fact, it occurred to me then that I had witnessed such acts of compassion initiated by
animals
far more often than by
humans
. I contemplated the notion of a spiritual hierarchy and found little support for the theory that humans are at the top.
I recalled the countless stories of all types of animals—dogs, cats, horses, rats, and others—who had engaged in thoughtful, and sometimes daring, acts of service on behalf of those in need. Most of these acts had nothing to do with instinct, but rather, with the deliberate effort of someone who understands and wants to help another. These acts of compassion often cross the species barrier, with animals helping not only other animals of their
own
species, but also animals of
other
species, including humans.
Many of these great acts are witnessed in wild animals as well—dispelling the notion that animals learn such behavior from humans. When I hear people proclaim that animals are able to commit such commendable acts—or even to develop souls or earn a place in Heaven—
because of the love of a human
, I realize how limited humanity’s thinking still is. Perhaps we’re afraid to admit that we humans are not the sole heirs to the universe after all.
As I look back throughout history, it seems that humans have never taken kindly to theories that make us anything other than the center of the universe. In my opinion, that is why some people continue to hold fiercely to the idea that animals do not have souls, without ever having actually investigated this subject for themselves.
I care not much for a man’s religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it.
—A
BRAHAM
L
INCOLN
I
COME ACROSS SO MANY BELIEF SYSTEMS
that are still based on human ego. Perhaps the cause is insecurity, but the effect is tremendous unnecessary suffering. I feel that the biggest lesson here on Earth is to learn unconditional love. To love without conditions. It is simple to love that which is similar to ourselves, because we can identify with it and know firsthand what it feels like to be
us.
To love that which is
different
comes naturally to
some
people, but for humanity as a whole, this has been perhaps the hardest lesson of all. Human history demonstrates this in a most dramatic way. Slavery; the Holocaust; so-called holy wars; and the oppression of Native Americans, women, and countless other groups are but a handful of examples of this. The ongoing and often widely accepted oppression of nonhuman animals in our world is evidence that we have a long way to go yet. We as a species still have a lot of growing up to do.
Perhaps the animals are here to teach
us
. What better examples of unconditional love do we have than our companion animals? Humans are capable of tremendous acts of hatred, so perhaps it is
we
who must learn to commit commendable acts of love—and even to develop our
own
souls and earn a place in Heaven—
because of the love of an animal
.
Interestingly, many of the wisest teachers, philosophers, geniuses, and gurus throughout history have made compassion toward animals a very core element of their teachings. Unfortunately, this is very often overlooked or downplayed, but it is there loud and clear, whether we choose to pay attention or not.
The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.
—G
ANDHI
Many great spiritual leaders have promoted compassion for animals. In fact, a vegetarian diet is often considered a logical step on the spiritual path. Gandhi, St. Francis, and Jesus were all strongly opposed to animal “sacrifice.” St. Francis and Jesus both actually
rescued
animals from “sacrifice,” and they certainly didn’t gain any popularity by doing so. (For more information on this, I highly recommend the book
Peace to All Beings: Veggie Soup for the Chicken’s Soul
by Judy Carman.)
S
PIRITUALLY INCLINED PEOPLE
often proclaim that we are
not
human beings having a spiritual experience, but rather, we are
spiritual
beings having a
human
experience. I wholeheartedly agree with this statement. However, in the next breath, many people often go on to say matter-of-factly that humans are superior to other animals and are the only ones who have souls. Why? Because we’re
human.
Wait a minute—I thought they just said we were
spiritual
beings and
not
human beings; we’re simply having a human
experience
. If we are indeed spiritual beings having a human experience, then it could equally be said that animals are spiritual beings having an
animal
experience. The logical conclusion: We are
all
spiritual beings.
I find it interesting that we humans often like to put ourselves at the top of a spiritual hierarchy, claiming that we are the most evolved beings of all. First we’re told that we’re spiritual beings and that our human aspect is only temporary; then we’re told that we’re superior by virtue of being
human
. Not only do I find this to be conflicting, but I have difficulty swallowing it. A quick glance at the daily newspaper or the evening news gives us but a mere clue as to the acts of cruelty that humans are capable of. Therefore, if humans are the most evolved and are at the top of some sort of spiritual hierarchy, I’d say our world is in big trouble!
A
NOTHER COMMON THEORY
I’ve heard is that animals don’t have individual souls at all—that they are simply part of a “group soul” at best, and nothing more. Once they die, they merge with an animal group consciousness, and their individuality—their unique personality—is gone forever. Countless people have come to me in tears after being fed this “fact” by someone they turned to for support while grieving the loss of a beloved companion, a companion who they have just been told doesn’t really exist anymore.
Not only is this notion extremely upsetting to those in grief; it is simply not the case. Rather, it is an outdated theory based, once again, on human ego and
not
real life experience. I find that some of the people who preach this theory are actually well-intentioned and honestly believe what they are saying. They themselves were fed this “fact” somewhere along the way, and unfortunately, they adopted it without even questioning its validity. Sometimes people even claim to be receiving this information from a “higher source” when, in reality, it is a belief system that has been adopted by their own psyche based on the common belief systems—or perhaps the collective consciousness—of humanity at large.
All actual
evidence
suggests that animals are not merely part of a group soul any more or less than humans are. We are all individuals, and based on all of my research in this realm, our individuality remains even after we leave our physical bodies behind. Sure, we are all “one” in the sense that we are a part of the greater whole—and there do appear to be groups of souls that share a common bond—but each of us is on our own journey that is not based upon such temporary physical factors as species. The universe is much grander than that. It is a universe filled with endless possibilities and experiences that help us to grow, to understand, and most importantly, to learn how to love.
By ethical conduct toward all creatures, we enter into a spiritual relationship with the universe.
—A
LBERT
S
CHWEITZER
W
HEN
I’
VE SPOKEN WITH
professional animal communicators about the idea of animals having souls and how this concept fits into their own spiritual belief systems, they’ve all told me that their beliefs do not come from any book, theory, or teaching, but rather, from what they’ve learned from the animals themselves.
Animal communicator and psychologist Jeri Ryan, Ph.D., had the following to say:
I have believed for a long time that animals have souls. When you think about soul as the life force—the vitality in us—why wouldn’t they? Animals are similar to us anatomically and physiologically. Not totally, of course, but they have many similarities to us, and why would they
not
have a soul?My first real solid recognition of this was when I rescued a big malamute dog named Simon. In those days, I wasn’t doing any kind of professional communicating with animals. I was just sitting on the floor across from him; I was looking into his eyes and something struck me—I had an “aha” experience. I said silently to myself,
There is a soul in there.
As soon as I said that, he came over to me and put his head on my shoulder. That was a doggy hug and I felt that was an acknowledgment of what I had discovered.My own belief in hierarchies has changed a lot. As a psychologist, I understand the vulnerability of the human ego, and it’s not just the human ego that’s vulnerable; there are other animals with vulnerable egos, too. Since we happen to be the ones in charge of the world, ours really stands out more than any. That has made us really want to set up hierarchies of value. So, we see ourselves as the most intelligent and the most needed and the most valuable species on the planet.
From hearing what the animal spirits have to say, I have come to the understanding that there
has
to be a spirit inside those animals. If you relate to animals and you look into their eyes, you can see the soul—you can’t miss it unless you are very shut down. I have no question that there is an afterlife for
all
spirits, no matter what kind of a body they have been in.