A little over two weeks after my son passed away, I was forced to make a decision to help my little cocker spaniel, Agatha, transition via compassionate euthanasia. She had been dealing with an untreatable neurological condition (likely a brain tumor with severe seizures and inability to use her hind legs). She lay in her bed on the seat beside me, and my hand rested on her the entire trip to the veterinary hospital I owned at the time. Ironically, as I reached the back door of the hospital, she took a final breath and passed away in my arms. She made her own decision to travel on and I didn’t have to give her that final injection. What a blessing, but there was more to come.
As I was driving back home, a vision or continuing tableau (I don’t know what else to call it) opened up in front of me. I didn’t understand what was occurring and had to pull off to the side of the freeway under the Brand Central Overpass in Glendale. What appeared in front of the truck was like being at a drive-in movie and watching a show on the large screen. There was my son, Chris, kneeling down in a beautiful meadow. Almost immediately, out of the periphery, came Agatha bounding (before, she was unable to use her hind legs) toward Chris. Her ears were flopping up and down as she ran and jumped into Chris’ arms and licked his face. I was mesmerized to say the least. There was no sound, but I could see Chris mouth the words: “I’m okay, Dad.” The vision switched off and was gone with no evidence it had been there. Tears were flowing unabated down my face. I had to sit for several minutes trying to understand what had just happened. I know it was not a figment of my imagination. It was as real as real can be. To this day, I remember it as if it just happened. However, I still can’t explain it other than as I’ve just done.
That few moments of being with Chris and Agatha completely changed my inner being. The vision gave me peace as well as affirming by belief in an afterlife, not only for us, but for our precious pets. Prior to that, I was devastated by the loss of my son. Afterwards, I felt differently, still very sad because of his leaving, but happy that he was doing just fine. What a major shift and an even greater blessing.