Today I lay under a weeping birch and ate my lunch. My brain rested after an interesting but mind boggling class about modern psychological theories and how they don't jive with the principal of moral agency. I chewed my sandwich and then rested my brain by looking up at the blue sky through green leaves...my favorite scene in all the world. There is nothing like a weeping birch to make a person not feel like weeping.
Tomorrow I have decided not to take the class called "Do Animals Go to Heaven? An LDS Scriptural vs. World Religion Perspective" because I have a great fear I will find out that our dog Nixon is headed straight to hell for his unrepentant howling during thunderstorms and his gleeful murder of grackles.
If he is a dog of perdition I don't want to know about it.
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12 comments:
I think you have made a wise decision.
=)
Take the day off, but only if you're going to lie under a tree and gaze up at the sky all day.
oh, sweet Nixon most definitely will be pardoned for everything. Don't you know, All Dogs Go to Heaven? Or is that another Modern Psychological theory?
Nixon, no problem, he'll be there. But, you don't have a cat do you?
You know that those without guile and accountability are not capable of sin. I'm pretty sure sweet, little Nixon will be exempt from perdition. (Though you did give him kind of a ominous name when it comes to misdeeds.) I believe you will see Nixon again. (unless?? You haven't howled or eaten crackles have you?)
But look at that face. He's so repentant - blame it on his instincts.
Dog of perdition? L.O.L
I'm pretty sure only cats go to hell. Felines of Perdition.
What Larainy doesn't know won't hurt her.
Nixon is heaven-bound, for sure. He may even get his own sunny field with nary a thunderstorm in sight for all of eternity. . .and a personal supply of grackles. :)
I just want you to be aware that BYU-Idaho education week is more spiritually uplifting, intellectually fulfilling and pleasure arousing then BYU's. If you had come here you would get to spend a week at my house, sleeping on an air mattress, drinking diet coke, gossiping, reading the Bronte sisters and comparing our varicose veins.
(Oh and there is, without a doubt, a hell for dogs. I know a few who are going. #1 on my list? Uncle Jakes greyhound Heidi. She was the devils mistress.)
There're just some things we're better off not knowing.
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