Life After Death

Pets in the Spirit World

This web site has a lot about the human soul, which is who we really are. It also states that no other being on Earth other than us, has a soul. This is correct. But to assume that animals are not in spirit because they do not have a soul is a mistake.

Now we also explain elsewhere that the soul cannot be seen, and thus “spirits” - or the portion of us that can be seen after death is actually their “spirit body.” This spirit body can in fact be altered by spirits. They can change their look, their age and so on. Its very likely that this spirit body is actually what is called a thought form. I can’t say I know that to be true, but it seems quite likely because everything that exists in the spirit world - homes, plants, flowers, trees are all manipulated by thought. With this back ground it’s not hard to see that there could be pet thought forms. They appear identical to the pet we knew, but they can act smarter, and no longer have any aggression nor do they need to eat. As indeed applies to us, we don’t need to eat in spirit. If you are interested in the many kinds of thought form that exist, here is a page on that topic.

To get feedback from the spirit world on the topic of pets and animals I have found that the work of Anthony Borgia is probably the best source. But there are obviously other sources.

This extract is from a book by Anthony Borgia who channeled Monsignor Robert Hugh Benson, a Roman Catholic theologian. The book is “Life in the World Unseen”.

First on spirit animals - ones that are not from Earth:

The island certainly came up to our expectations in its scenic beauty. There were not many dwellings upon it; those that were to be seen were more summer-houses than anything else. But the great feature of the place was the number of trees, none of them very tall, but all were of particularly vigorous growth. And in the branches we could see scores of the most wonderful birds, whose plumage presented a riot of color. Some of the birds were flying about, others—the larger variety—were walking majestically along the ground. But all of them were unafraid of us. They walked with us as we strolled along, and when we held up our hands, some small bird would be sure to perch upon our fingers. They seemed to know us, to know that any harm coming to them was an utter impossibility. They did not require to make a constant search for food nor exercise a perpetual vigilance against what on earth would be their natural enemies. They were, like ourselves, part of the eternal world of spirit, enjoying in their way, as we do in ours, their eternal life. Their very existence there was just another of those thousands of things that are given to us for our delight. The birds which had the most gorgeous plumage were evidently of the kind that live in the tropical parts of the earth-plane, and which are never seen by the eye of man until he comes to the spirit world. By the perfect adjustment of temperature they were able to live in comfort with those of less spectacular appearance. And all the while they were singing and twittering in a symphony of sound. It was never wearying, in spite of the quantity of sound that was going on, because in some extraordinary fashion the musical sounds blended with each other. Neither were they piercing in quality despite the fact that many of the small birds’ songs were themselves high-pitched. But it was their trusting friendliness that was so delightful by comparison with the earthly birds, whose life there takes them into another world almost. Here we were part of the same free world, and the understanding between the birds and ourselves was reciprocal. When we spoke to them we felt that they knew just what we were saying, and in some subtle way we seemed to know just what their thoughts were. To call to any particular bird meant that that bird understood, and it came to us. (Page 50)

And from “More in the World Unseen” also by Anthony Borgia:

The boy suddenly turned his gaze towards the window, attracted by the sound of fluttering wings upon the window-ledge, when he perceived a small bird had made its entrance into the room, and had perched itself only a foot or so from him. Roger remained perfectly still, as though scarcely daring to move lest he should frighten the small visitor away. Ruth, however, called to the bird, which immediately flew to her and perched upon her outstretched finger. The bird was dressed in a smart livery of pale gray feathers. Roger was greatly interested when Ruth transferred the bird to his own finger. ‘He often visits us here,’ I told him, ‘though he really belongs to two old earth friends of mine.’ ‘Then what is he doing here?’ asked Roger. ‘Well, he was found by my friends in great distress when he was but a fledgeling; they cared for him, watched him grow, but sad to say, he came to grief. Possibly he became a trifle too daring, overdid things, had some sort of sudden seizure, and died almost at once. A great pity. He was like you, Roger, you and had hardly begun his life. And exactly like you, Roger, he passed into these beautiful lands, and was cared for immediately, just as we try to do for all the human souls who come to us. That small bird, so very inconsiderable on earth, and the action of my two friends, equally inconsiderable, have not been lost. Their affection for that tiny atom of life has preserved that life for all time. At present he is part of the “household” of a mutual old friend, who already has other bird and animal friends of his own. They’re a merry family, and we’ll take you along to see him—and them. Don’t you think he is a rather handsome fellow?’ ‘I do. What kind of bird is he?’ ‘When he first came to us here, he was a much darker gray and not so big. But he has grown, and his color, as you see, is now almost dove-gray. What kind of bird is he, did you say? Why only a common sparrow.’ Ruth was indignant that I should refer to him as in any sense common, and so I was compelled to recant—not for the first time since I came to the spirit world!

Finally we come to pets:

I have omitted to mention that as we emerged from the laboratory, the small bird that Roger had retained in his hand, then flew away in a direct line to a huge tree. He now emerged bringing with him, as it were, a raven and a macaw. Radiant Wing held out his arms, and the two birds at once perched upon them. The small bird flew back to Roger. ‘What do you think of my family?’ Radiant Wing asked. ‘The dog, the raven, and the macaw are my own. The small bird you have there, my son, belongs to friends who are still on earth, and this lovely puma, as well, belongs to one of them, who is also my instrument on earth.’ The colours of the macaw contrasted vividly with the blackness of the raven and the soft grey of the sparrow. Roger was obviously a trifle timid of the puma, no doubt from his recollection of the same kind of animal on earth, but our host at once reassured him. ‘You need have no fear, my son,’ said he. ‘See, she is without her wildness, and wishes harm to no one.’ Ruth had stooped down and was stroking and playing with the lovely creature, which was as gentle as a lamb. ‘She is not the only one of her kind here, by any means,’ continued our host, ‘but their dispositions are all the same— harmless and gentle. You see, the two chief earthly factors are gone from all the animals in these lands—the need for food, which makes them prey upon others, and fear of both their own and of human kind. Remove these two, and there you have the result. They are a great joy to us—and to themselves. Try for yourself, my son.’ Roger bent down beside Ruth, and in a moment had lost his misgivings in stroking the puma’s thick fur. ‘She is the mad one,’ said Radiant Wing, ‘and continually keeps all the others “on the stretch”. Watch her now with the little bird.’ Roger held up his hand and the sparrow flew into the air only a short distance above the ground, but high enough to be provokingly out of reach of the puma. At this height he flew in a somewhat erratic manner, hither and thither, without appearing to be upon any direct course. The puma immediately gave chase, and as the bird followed a zig-zag way so his companion on the ground tried to emulate him. The acrobatics she was obliged to perform sent us all into roars of laughter, while we could but admire the nimbleness of the agile creature on the ground. The latter made the most astonishing leaps into the air, evidently sure of catching her small friend on the wing, but she was foiled upon every occasion by the bird moving an inch or two higher, or to right or left. ‘What would happen,’ asked Roger, ‘if the puma actually caught up with the bird?’ ‘Why, nothing,’ answered Radiant Wing with a laugh; ‘it would be impossible, even if they were not the very best of friends, which, of course, they are. There are no enemies here.’ The game was quickly ended, however, by the bird swooping down upon the puma, and alighting upon the latter’s head, who trotted back to us, and rolled herself over on the grass in evident satisfaction with her performance. Radiant Wing again turned to Roger: ‘Now you know where I live, my son, I hope you will visit us whenever you wish. My boys and myself will always be delighted to see you. Or, if you wish, just walk into the garden and enjoy yourself with my family. You may not always find all of them here; sometimes these two’, he slightly raised his arms with the two large birds upon them, ‘and the dog go with me when I’m on my earth missions. But you know the small bird, and friend puma is most times hereabouts, and ready to play.’

Now if you are wondering when your pet arrives in spirit, it appears to be on their death. And the way that this happens is the love of its owner creates that thought form even when we have no idea about this nor indeed how to do this. The extracts above indicate that pets are often in spirit long before their owners and are looked after by others until their owner arrives.