With tears in my eyes, a heavy heart, and my Jesus, I Trust in You candle flickering beside me, I write this blog. I never imagined I’d be writing something like this—a letter to say goodbye to my sweet dog, Bleu. But in the midst of sorrow, I’m choosing to pour my heart out in faith, trusting that even in grief, God is near.these are the final days of my beloved dog, Bleu. She’s only nine years old, a birthday gift from my husband, Wayne. I remember the day we brought her home like it was yesterday. She was this tiny, sweet ball of fluff with the biggest, most expressive blue eyes. I didn’t know it then, but she would go on to change my heart and my home forever.
Bleu wasn’t just a dog. She was a part of our little family, part of our daily life and part of my healing journey. She greeted me every day with love, waited for me when I was away, and curled up beside me during some of my hardest moments. She knew when I was sad without me saying a word. Her presence was quiet but profound.
As a Catholic, one of the hardest things I’ve wrestled with is what our faith teaches about animals and the afterlife. The Catechism tells us that animals do not have immortal souls in the same way humans do (CCC 2416–2418). Humans are made in the image of God, with rational souls destined for eternity. Animals, while loved by God, are not promised the same destiny in traditional theology.
That truth is hard to swallow when your heart is breaking.
I’ve often said, half-joking and half-praying, that I hope there’s at least a “doggy heaven” I can swing by to say hi to all the pets I’ve loved and lost. I’ve cried many tears wondering if I’ll ever see Bleu again. But I’ve also come to understand that while animals may not have eternal souls like ours, they are still a vital part of God’s creation, made by Him and loved by Him.
I find comfort in the words of St. John Paul II, who once said, “Animals possess a soul, and men must love and feel solidarity with our smaller brethren.” While this doesn’t mean animals share the same eternal destiny as us, it reminds me that they are part of God’s creation, made with care and purpose. I trust in God’s mercy and believe that the love shared between us and our animals has eternal significance—because it was born from Him.
As much as it breaks my heart to think I might not see Bleu again in eternity, I also understand that the purpose of heaven is not to relive the joys of earth, but to be united fully with God. In His presence, our souls will be completely fulfilled—there will be no sadness, no longing, only perfect peace. He will be enough. And that gives me comfort too.
The truth is, love like Bleu’s doesn’t just disappear. God is love, and anything that reflects His love has eternal meaning. While we don't know exactly how God will restore His creation, we trust in His mercy and goodness. And so I choose to believe that the love Bleu gave us wasn’t just for this life—it has a place in God’s plan somehow.
Right now, Bleu is no longer the energetic pup who would chase her ball endlessly or race me to the front door. She’s slowing down. She isn’t eating much. She barely drinks. She just lays down quietly, her body tired but her spirit still gentle. And all I want is to hold her close and soak up these final moments.
Each day, I take her for slow walks, even if it’s just a few steps outside. I wrap her in her soft blanket, whisper little prayers over her, and thank God for the gift of her life. She’s been with me through so much—through trials, moves, celebrations, even during the time Wayne and I were building our candle business from scratch. She was always there.
I’m reminded now more than ever how fragile life is. How temporary. And how much we are called to love while we have the chance.
Losing Bleu is making me think about what really matters. About the people—and pets—we love. About heaven, and what awaits us. And about how God often speaks through the softest voices and the simplest companions.
If you're reading this and you're also grieving a beloved pet—or preparing for that grief—please know you’re not alone. This pain is real. That love was real. And God sees your sorrow just like He sees mine. There’s no tear that falls without His notice.
Bleu has taught me more about love, loyalty, and sacrifice than I ever expected from a dog. She loved me without conditions. She waited patiently. She never asked for anything but my presence. And I think sometimes God sends animals to teach us what pure love looks like—no ego, no agenda, just presence.
Bleu was created by God in His love for us. And even if I can’t theologically guarantee that she’ll be in heaven, I know that God gave her to us for a reason. I believe He is good enough, creative enough, and loving enough to not waste any part of the love He allows in our lives.
"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care." Mathew 10:29
So today, I let go a little more. I pray for strength and peace. I ask God to hold my heart as He prepares to welcome hers. I trust that He knows better than I do. And I thank Him—truly—for letting us love Bleu, and for giving us the gift of being her family.
To anyone reading this, whether your dog is still with you or already gone—I see you. I’m with you. And I pray God gives you the comfort only He can give.
You, Lord, preserve both people and animals. How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!" Psalm 36:6
To my sweet Bleu,
Thank you for being mine. For every lick, every cuddle, every tail wag, and every quiet moment by my side. I will never forget you. I trust that the same God who gave you to me will take care of you now, in His own perfect way
A Prayer for a Sick Pet
Heavenly Father,
You created all things out of love.
I lift up to You my sweet Bleu.
She is sick and tired, and I don’t know how much time we have left.
Please comfort her, ease her pain, and give her peace.
Thank You for the joy she has brought into our lives.
Strengthen my heart as I care for her in these final days.
Help me to trust in Your mercy and love.
Amen.
A Prayer for a Dying Pet
Lord of Life,
You gave me the gift of a faithful friend.
As Bleu nears the end of her journey,
I place her life gently in Your hands.
I thank You for the love we’ve shared.
Give her peace, and give me strength.
Help me to remember that nothing good is ever lost in You.
Receive her with tenderness, and let Your love carry her home.
Amen.
If you are grieving or preparing to say goodbye to a pet, I invite you to light a candle, say a prayer, and let yourself feel everything. Our God is compassionate. He holds the brokenhearted. And I truly believe He honors the love we give and receive—even from our four-legged friends.
