Where dogs go when they die
I wish someone had given Jesus a dog,
as loyal and loving as mine.
To sleep by His manger and gaze in His eyes
And adore Him for being divine.
As our Lord grew to manhood His faithful dog,
Would have followed Him all through the day.
While He preached to the crowds and made the sick well,
And knelt in the garden to pray.
It is sad to remember that Christ went away,
To face death alone and apart.
With no tender dog following close behind,
To comfort its Master’s heart.
And when Jesus rose on that Easter morn,
How happy He would have been,
As His dog kissed His hand and barked it’s delight,
For the one who died for all men.
Well, the Lord has a dog now, I just sent Him mine,
The old pall so dear to me.
And I smile through my tears on this first day alone,
Knowing they’re in eternity.
Day after day, the whole day through,
Wherever my road inclined,
Four feet said, “Wait, I’m coming with you!”
And trotted along behind.
Rudyard Kipling
Affiliated Ministries
