Are there Dogs in Heaven?

A tearful child approached the Holy Father and explained that his little dog had died. With the skill of a natural pastor, the pope reassured the boy that there was room for all God’s creatures in heaven. And with this throwaway line, a debate blew up that went round the world.

If you think the above story was about Pope Francis you are in good company  The New York Times made the same mistake. In fact, the story about the pope and the puppy involved Blessed Paul VI 40 years ago.

However, Pope Francis did recently make a comment about the environment and this is what caused journalists to reopen the question of whether or not animals go to heaven.

Why did any of this matter? If heaven is the destiny of those who are saved, does that mean that dogs can be saved? And if so, does that mean that dogs will be judged, for there can be no heaven without hell? And if they are judged, that must mean that dogs have soulsthat can be put at risk through sin. And if dogs can sin, they must have a conscience. And if dogs, why not all animals? And if all animals have a soul and a conscience and the chance of salvation, what does that say about the piece of bacon you are tucking into as you read this over breakfast?

The animal rights lobby went wild with excitement about the misquote: was the pope, already a friend of unmarried mothers, refugees, Muslims and homosexuals, now also endorsing vegetarianism?

No, was the categorical response from the (Catholic) head of the pig-breeders association in America. The pope would certainly not want to deny us our pork chops.

And in any case the quote that always comes out at this point Genesis 1:28 gives human beings dominion over the fish in the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground and so (the implication is) we can do what we like with the rest of creation.

One sensible Jesuit pointed out that the pope’s words were a pastoral response, not a theological statement and so should not be overanalysed. But I could not help noticing that much of the theology that we draw from the Gospels comes from pastoral responses that Jesus gives to the random people whom he encounters not a little boy with a dead puppy but a rich young man or a woman caught in adultery or a grieving widow.

As I ponder the popes words that is, Pope Paul not Pope Francismy concerns go beyond my lamb chops or leather shoes and instead focus on what heaven is going to be like.

A heaven full of puppies especially ones like Razzle that don’t bark, are obedient and give you unconditional love would be delightful. But then, what about the ugly dogs? And the growling ones? And the smelly ones? And the cats?

Moreover, if we take this to its logical conclusion, it means that there must be room in heaven for mosquitoes.

A (non-religious) friend of mine, trying to make sense of this, offered the perspective that in heaven there would only be room for fluffy animals because they would fit in with the fluffy clouds.

So the mosquitoes that are there will be the cute ones that don’t  bite they just sing. It still sounds to me like being locked away for eternity in a room with a buzzing insect!

As I pursue these thoughts I find myself very quickly becoming God judging which animals will go to heaven and which will not.

But how soon do I then slip into the trap of judging which people will go to heaven? I guess we are all tempted by a view of heaven full of people whom we like, or who are like us. Lots of space for our friends, and the relatives we get on with, and the members of our clan. But not much space for the people we didnt spend time with on earth, the ones from a different group or race or religion or lifestyle or political view.

The question of animals in heaven starts to open a much bigger can of celestial invertebrates; it tests our genuine acceptance of others.

When I was a Jesuit novice, we spent a quiet eveningwe had a lot of thosespeculating with the novice master on what heaven would be like.

I held forth: for me, heaven would be like an eternal cocktail party, full of the people I had enjoyed meeting in life or whom I had always wanted to meet. And I could move endlessly round the cocktail party, chatting to more and more people, sipping martinis and never getting drunk, and hobnobbing with my grandmother or St Ignatius or Noel Coward.

My novice master  not a natural extrovert  went pale at the thought of it. That, he said, is my idea of hell!

I suspect that God knows what he is up to. If the little boy’s idea of heaven is to be reunited with his lost puppy then surely God can sort that out. And that wont undermine the kind of heaven experienced by the person who cannot abide animals. And there will even be a kind of heaven for the insect lover who wants to be surrounded for all time by mosquitoes and bugs and spiders.

And we will all learnunder the gaze of a merciful Father and with the passing of eternityto learn to understand and accept each others view of heaven.

Raymond Perrier has co-authored a book of daily reflections for Lent entitled Pilgrims in the Modern World which is now available for R65 excl VAT from Catholic bookshops and from the Jesuit Institute at