All Dogs Go to Heaven by Brenda Colbath

The noisy intersection was filled with people hurrying and ignoring fellow travelers. They were abruptly yanked from their reverie when they heard the screech of brakes and a sickening thud!

The victim’s scream was mercifully short! Onlookers froze in horror at the sight of the victim crumpled under the bus.

“Oh, my God, he just ran out in front of me; I couldn’t stop!” The driver beseeched the witnesses to back him up, hands spread, palms out in front of him. 

“Someone, call 9-1-1!”

Freddy Connely dropped to the ground, peering under his truck, knowing the poor devil pinned there was not alive but still hoping.

Joe Bannon emerged from the blackness of death, staring down at the man under the bus, finally realizing that his own face was staring back.

“Wait a minute, that guy looks just like me!” he said to one of the bystanders.

No one answered or acknowledged his remark. To his astonishment, he walked right through a couple of the frozen statues. Grabbing her child’s hand, a young woman yanked so hard its knees hit the pavement, being dragged around the corner and out of sight.  

Joe Bannon couldn’t accept that the mangled body lying bleeding under the bus was him!  Looking down, Joe said, “There isn’t a drop of blood on my new suit, and what’s this, walking through people?” He tried to talk to the bus driver, but he continued to solicit agreement from everyone but Joe, standing right in front of him.

The scene faded, and Joe found himself in a lovely green meadow beside a sparkling meandering stream. Looking into the clear water, he saw beautiful rainbow trout swimming just below the surface. Tearing his eyes from those beauties, his attention was drawn to the magnificent snow-capped mountains, in the distance under the blue skies with fluffy white clouds! Staring mesmerized, he was amused, seeing the clouds shaped like dogs. He had never been an animal lover, he tried the animal thing several times, but it just wasn’t for him.

The scenery was so beautifully soothing; Joe felt tired and slowly sunk down to the soft grass, instantly falling into a deep sleep. He slept peacefully until he felt a wet grainy tongue lap his face. 

Startled awake, all he could see was a large pink tongue in front of his eyes.   Springing up into a sitting position, he was staring into the face of a St. Bernard dog, complete with a Brandy barrel on a chain around his massive neck. They sat motionless for several minutes, looking at each other until Joe heard a voice saying, “If you would like a drink, be my guest!”

“Thank you, I think I could use one after the day I have had,” Joe said and proceeded to enjoy sipping the nectar of the gods. Looking around, not seeing the dog’s master or any other human, he was shocked; the dog was speaking.

“You’re a dog. You can’t talk!” Joe exclaimed.

“In the world, you came from, that is true, but here things are a little different.”

“How different can things be? Where are we?” Joe sputtered.

“Where do you think you are?”

“Well, since I was hit by a bus, I am either in Heaven or Hell!”

Bernard lifted his massive head and laughed for several minutes. “You humans are funny creatures!”

Joe was struck speechless, hearing the dog laughing. He thought, “This is the strangest dream I have ever had.” Pinching himself and feeling the pain, he knew he was awake unless that was part of the vision, too! “When I wake up, I will miss this beautiful valley and the chance of not having caught one of those magnificent fishes.” 

“What makes you think this is a dream?”

“Well, for one thing, dogs can’t talk, and a St. Bernard with a Brandy Barrel is a myth. I can accept that I died in that accident, but this isn’t the Heaven or Hell I imagined. Which is it?”

“Which do you want it to be? By the way, please call me Bernie.”

“Well, Bernie, at the moment, it feels more like heaven, or would be if I had my fishing equipment!” Joe said, pouring another generous cup from Bernie’s barrel and taking a long drink, anticipating the answer to his question.

Instantly his old Jebco rod appeared beside him. “Well, hot damn, I guess it must be Heaven, although I am a little surprised that I made the cut! I can’t wait to taste those trout. Am I allowed to build a fire?”

Throwing his baited hook in the water, a magnificent trout grabbed it and leisurely swam away.

“Wait a minute! You can’t do that! I caught you fair and square and want you in my frying pan.”  He rapidly reeled in his line, but the fish ignored him, no matter how fast he reeled, and the damn fish was smiling.

“Dammit! What kind of fishing hole is this? I can bait my hook, dangle it in the water, and the fish bite but swim away. I love trout, smothered in butter, fried to a golden brown in a frying pan over a campfire!” Suddenly the grief and unfairness of his death overcame him, and he began to bawl big gulping sobs. 

Bernie couldn’t stand his blubbering and said, “Stop that blubbering right now! It is always a little strange the first couple of days, but there’s no need to get hysterical.”

Joe’s blubbering and tears slowed down.

“I want you to meet someone.” And he stepped aside so Joe could see a puppy standing looking at Joe with a hopeful look on its eager face. 

“He’s kinda cute, but I’m not a dog person.”  He thought, “Maybe if I ignore it, it will run away. A human companion is more to my liking.”

Bernie said, Joe, this is Rex; he wants to be your friend. Rex jumped up in Joe’s arms, well his chest, and because Joe didn’t move his arms, Rex lingered a few seconds and dropped to the grass. He stood there looking up at Joe with those sad puppy eyes, begging him to pick him up.

“What’s the meaning of this? I have never been a dog person. They don’t like me, and the feeling is mutual.”

“Wonder why that is?  You can see, this puppy wants to be friends.”

“Yeah, right now, it does. But the feeding, the cleaning up after it, walking, and trips to the Vet will take up all my time. I don’t have time for any complications in my life; I have an important meeting I have to get to…” and looking at his cell, he said, “Right now!”  But then he remembered where he was and sunk to the ground.

Rex took this as a sign and crawled into his lap, snuggling closer, shining those puppy eyes up at Joe.

“You will have all the time in the world to play. Rex is never sick; he loves to run and chase sticks and is the best cuddler in the world.” Bernie said.

Joe was losing patience, which he didn’t have in abundance. “Alright! Where the hell am I?” He jumped to his feet, dumping the puppy on the grass.

“Joe, where do you want to be?”

“What kind of question is that? I was just in a horrendous accident and am probably in surgery right now, dreaming of this place.  It can’t be Heaven, or there wouldn’t be dogs.  OMG, I must be in Hell!”

Slumping back to the ground and without realizing it, Joe stroked Rex’s baby soft fur and couldn’t help but notice the silky feel.  He continued stroking the fur, eliciting moans of pleasure and more snuggles from Rex.

“Joe, why do you want to be in Hell?”

“I don’t want to be, but where else can this be? I can only look at fish, interact with a dog that will eventually hate me, and there are no other people to talk to. What else do you have in your bag of tricks to taunt me for eternity?”

“What else do you want?”

“Knock it off! Answering my questions with more questions!”

“Okay, I will tell you! You are in what I will call the ‘In-between’ and will stay here until your character develops enough for dogs and other animals to love you!”

“What do you mean?  I am petting it, aren’t I?  Can I go to people Hell or Heaven, now?”

Joe started patting the dog’s head with gusto, and right on cue, the puppy growled and moved away, giving him a sorrowful look.

“See, they don’t like me, and I don’t like them much, either.”

“That is too bad.  Most people arriving here are thrilled with this tranquil meadow, puppies to cuddle, fish to catch, and clouds to watch.” 

“Didn’t you see that your puppy took an instant dislike to me?”

“Once you get to know the inhabitants of this valley, you will love it here, like everyone else.”

“Everyone else?  Where are they? I need people, not dogs!”

“First, you have to learn to be kind to dogs, and if and when they accept you, then you will ascend to the next phase of your enlightenment!”

“What? Give me another drink from that barrel!” Joe said, reaching for it.

“All your needs will be provided for as long as you stay here, but I will be moving along to greet my next visitor. 

Bernie turned, and instantly, he was running across the field and disappeared over the hill.


Brenda Colbath creates worlds, characters, and wields power like a madwoman making her characters happy, sad, angry, or having no redeeming qualities. She laughs aloud when she writes a scene, and cries when one of her favorites dies. She is a left-handed Gemini; what do you expect?

To know more about Brenda and her writing visit Time Traveler on the Road of Life.

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6 Comments Add yours

  1. Terveen Gill says:

    Brenda’s short story is a creative assumption of what happens to folks who check out from life but haven’t found their way to heaven or hell. And there is no better guide and companion than a dog, that too a St. Bernard. If you don’t have an inclination or liking for canines, then this story just might change your thinking. Better get your act together, or you might have to do it later.
    Congratulations Brenda!


  2. Terveen Gill, thank you so much for publishing my short story “All Dogs go to Heaven” on your blog, MasticadoresIndia.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Reblogged this on Time Traveler on the road of Life and commented:
    Thank You Terveen Gill for publishing my short story on MasticadoresIndia. If you would like to read “All dogs go to Heaven” go to MasticadoresIndia.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. elcieloyelinfierno says:

    Brilliant short story !! Magnificent in its core and narrative; full of magic and spirituality. A warm greeting.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. jonicaggiano says:

    Congratulations Brenda how wonderful to see you here. What a lovely story. I too picture dogs and all animals in heaven. I love that he had to learn to love dogs before he could move on. Nicely done, great story and I like that you offered him a way to move on. Beautiful! Love, Joni

    Liked by 2 people

  6. The “in-between” is quite a perplexing place to be for Joe:) I love Bernie, as always dogs of heaven have wisdom. Good story. Congratulations.

    Liked by 2 people

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