Reflecting on the ‘Rainbow Bridge’

by

John J. Dunphy

Anyone who has lost a companion animal is familiar with a brief free verse poem called “The Rainbow Bridge.”

Its date of origin is uncertain, and at least three persons currently claim to be its author. Cynics ridicule its over-the-top sentimentality. Still, even those who boast that they never read are familiar with its content.

The Rainbow Bridge, which is so named because of its beautiful colors, supposedly connects heaven and earth.

“Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge,” the poem states, “there is a land of meadows and hills with lush green grass. When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place.” This magical realm always enjoys warm spring weather and pets are restored to their long-ago state. “The old and frail animals are young again” and pets who were sick or injured “are made whole again.”

These deceased pets run and play as they wait for their humans. Upon being reunited, “He licks and kisses your face again and again — and you look once more into the eyes of your best friend and trusting pet.” Then, “you cross the Rainbow Bridge never again to be apart.”

In her article for The Washington Post, “What is the rainbow bridge and why do we think dead pets cross it?,” Ann Marie Gardner noted the poem “launched the pet bereavement movement, inspired countless pet loss blogs and fueled a lucrative marketplace for rainbow bridged themed dog urns and lava bead bracelets.”

Gardner quoted a New York City-based veterinarian who “laughed when asked about” the poem but conceded that he and his staff sometimes give a copy of “The Rainbow Bridge” to those who have lost a companion animal. The poem offers “an easy way to say something,” the vet told her. “I don’t think it’s any better or worse than saying, ‘Oh, she’s in doggy heaven.’”

At 65, I’m old enough to remember when grieving the loss of a companion animal brought rebukes such as “Get over it! It was just a dog (or cat)!” Gardner calls such grief a “a disenfranchised sorrow, one neither fully acknowledged nor socially acceptable.”

Of course there are still persons today who dismiss or even ridicule anyone who sheds tears upon the death of a companion animal. I can almost pity them for their lack of empathy and compassion.

So many books have been written to assure bereaved humans that their companion animals survive death that the subject now comprises a distinct literary genre. “Signs From Pets in the Afterlife,” “I Will See You in Heaven,” “The Amazing Afterlife of Animals” and numerous other books offer solace to the grieving.

A book such as “Biblical Proof Animals Do Go To Heaven,” however, is counterbalanced by a viewpoint expressed in “Do Pets Go to Heaven?,” which appears on the web site of Christianity Today. “Our human idea of heaven might be walking an adored dog in the forest, but there’s no indication that is anything like God’s plan.” The author affirms that “John 3:16 makes no mention of animals. Only humans are made in the divine likeness.”

As a matter of fact, chilling out with my many “adored” dogs and cats is precisely my idea of heaven. If that indeed bears no resemblance to “God’s plan,” as the author calls it, then I’ll politely decline admittance to heaven and join my beloved critters in tranquil oblivion.

I find the claim that “only humans are made in the divine likeness” rather dubious. If Christians are correct in asserting that God is love (I John 4:8 and 4:16), then 65 years of living have taught me that companion animals embody the essence of God infinitely better than the vast majority of humans.

John J. Dunphy is the author of Unsung Heroes of the Dachau Trials: The Investigative Work of the U.S. Army 7708 War Crimes Group, 1945–1947. His works of poetry include Touching Each Tree and pagan rites.