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All dogs go to heaven

funny short story: all dogs go to heaven


“I want to go to dog heaven,” Mary said, tapping her foot against the misty firmament.

St. Peter had just failed six times to enter his password into the cloud database where the names of the saved and damned were kept. So, after slamming the keyboard in frustration, he had to wait thirty minutes to try again.

“Excuse me, what did you say?” St. Peter said, squinting through his golden bifocals.

Mary puffed, realizing he hadn’t been listening to her story.

“I want to go to dog heaven, instead of people heaven,” Mary said.

St. Peter’s left index finger flicked his curly white beard back-and-forth as he attempted to fully appreciate her request.

“You mean, instead of the heaven that the Lord has created for humans?” St. Peter asked.

“Uh huh,” Mary said excitedly.

“Well, I don’t even know yet if you are worthy of heaven, thanks to this stupid new upgraded system,” St. Peter said, slapping the monitor, “But, while we’re waiting, tell me why exactly you want to go to dog heaven.”

Mary told St. Peter how she died.

In a flash of screams and white light, Mary found herself floating above herself. A carcass with blonde hair stained with streaks with red, with mangled arms and legs that pointed in every direction. She regretted most her stomach, which was ripped apart on the curb. She worked hard for that stomach, planned her diet and schedule around that stomach. But her life was defined by success through hard work; unfortunately, this morning, she forgot to prepare for a Ford F-150 hopping the curb.

As her soul flew through the atmosphere, her entire life began to replay onto her corneas like two movie projectors. The father who left, the mother who died, the foster brother who sexually abused her, the period of homelessness; yet, in spite of these, she worked her way through law school, and into a well-paying firm in Washington, D.C.

“And then, wammo! It’s all gone?” she said. “I think I deserve to have myself a good time in heaven, given the plate of garbage I was served in life.”

“But why dog heaven?” St. Peter inquired.

“Because, I love puppies! So fluffy and cute! Ah!” Mary said excitedly. “People, well, I haven’t had a good experience with people.”

“I see,” St. Peter said, flicking his beard again. “Let me lend you some advice. You don’t want to go to dog heaven. It’s heaven, for dogs. There’s a lot of humping, the barking never, ever, ends, and it will be hell trying to fend off a sea of dogs begging to play fetch for eternity. Plus, there’s shit everywhere.”

“Why is there shit?” Mary asked.

“God doesn’t really do a good job of picking up after them. Not really a dog person, that one,” St. Peter said.

“Well, what about cat heaven?” Mary said.

“Cat’s don’t go to heaven,” St. Peter said sternly.

This story was written by David Gregory, creator of this website. Comment with your thoughts below!
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