Dog Day in Heaven: A Pet Loss Poem

By Beth White

If she could reach heaven, she would press her lips to it. She would strap on wings and rise, weightless, straight into that vast golden light, gliding toward the one she calls her Golden Girl. Her Emmie. Just the sight of her again would be enough.

She wishes she could visit, only for the wonder of seeing it. Seeing that place. Seeing that face. Seeing whatever grace waits on the other side.

She wonders how they mark the days up there. Do all the golden-coated ones gather along some shore, swimming and splashing and simply enjoying the light? Do they come together with smiles so wide that the whole earth somehow catches their glow reflected in the sand? Does their joy shine so brightly that every person still walking this earth feels their own step lighten, their own worry ease? Does that happiness ripple outward, visible even in the water?

She wonders. And she thinks that if every day there gives some new reason to celebrate, maybe that's a quiet reminder for the rest of us: to find our own reasons here, too.