Between 20 million to 40 million U.S. citizens believe a Second Coming is coming during their life, followed by the "Rapture". In event of the Rapture, they say the righteous will be spirited away to a better place, and those who are "godless" are destined to remain on Earth.
What about pets of the Believers? Bart Centre, 61, a retired retail executive in New Hampshire, says he has an answer to what's going to happen to pets left behind--and he wants to help--for a fee.
His company, Eternal Earth-Bound Pets, promises to rescue and care for animals left behind by the "saved". Promoted on the Web as "the next best thing to pet salvation in a Post Rapture World," the pet savior (of sorts) paid service has attracted approximately 100 clients so far. Those Eternal Earth-Bound Pets clients each pay $110 for a 10-year contract, plus $15 for each additional pet added to the contract.
If the Rapture happens during the contract time, those paying clients' pets who are left behind on Earth will have homes—with atheists. Apparently "believers" are ok with atheists, if it means no one else is around to take care of their animals.
Centre has set up a national network (though by national, that doesn't mean every state in the nation, just less than half of the nation's states) of godless humans to carry out a pet rescue mission. "If you love your pets, I can't understand how you could not consider this," the Eternal Earth-Bound Pets owner says.
Centre came up with the idea while working on his book, The Atheist Camel Chronicles. In fact, in his book, he references some unkind things about the devout Rapture believers--confessing, "I'm trying to figure out how to cash in on this [Rapture] hysteria to supplement my income." It seems Centre has solved his dilemma. Focusing on peoples' anxieties and fears does usually always to draw income.
Apparently the belief that animals and pets don't have souls and will therefore remain on Earth, with any Rapture, has believers sweating that possible time--at least in terms of their pets.
The concept is a bit of a logical hard sell. Centre must reassure the Rapture crowd of believers that his pet rescuers are wicked enough to be left behind on Earth, while those same people are supposedly also good enough to take proper care of the "abandoned" pets that "believers" will be leaving behind. Supposed pet "rescuers" must sign a legal affidavit to affirm their disbelief in God, and additionally clear a criminal background check. It's not clear where any possible checks and balances, of those atheist pet "rescuers" left behind, might come from. "We want people who have pets and are animal lovers," Centre says.
Atheist pet rescuers must have the means to rescue and transport the animals in their charge. Hope the freeways are open. His current network consists of 26 animal rescuers with coverage of about 22 states. "They take this very seriously," Centre says. Unfortunately that "seriousness"doesn't currently extend to the remaining 28 U.S. states, so--like a cell--users better check for "coverage".
One of Centre's atheist recruits is Laura, a woman in her 30s who lives near the buckle of the Bible Belt in Oklahoma, and prefers not to give her last name. Considering residence in the Bilble Belt, coupled with the "atheist" status, that anonymity is probably crucial. "Laura" has two dogs of her own and has made a Eternal Earth-Bound Pets commitment to rescue four dogs and two cats. "If it happens, my first thought will be, 'I've got (atheist) work to do,'" Laura says. "The first thing I'll do is find out where I need to go exactly." And that might be hard, considering physical Earthly damages any Rapture might bring.
The (possibly future) pet "rescuers" won't know precise location of the animals until the Rapture arrives, understandable since most of us don't know precise location of our animals at any given time during the day. At any Rapture time, rescuers are to contact Centre for instructions. "I've got to get to [the pets] within a maximum of 18 to 24 hours. We really don't want them [the pets] to wait more than a day," she says--ironic considering that the Rapture is a day she would logically believe will never come.
Centre doesn't think he will ever have to follow through on the pet rescue service he offers, however it hasn't stopped him from profiting on the thoughts or beliefs of others.
In efforts of virtuousness, Centre is directing about $200 or more per month in proceeds from Google ads, on his website, to food banks in Minnesota and New Hampshire.
For those Rapture pet owners, Centre's delivering something he perceives as valuable: peace of mind, for just 92 cents a month. "If we thought the Rapture was really going to happen," Centre says, "obviously our rate structure would be much higher."
And if Centre doesn't think the Rapture is going to happen, it might also make consumers wonder whether his infrastructure really has a lot of planning for that pet aftercare.