Hi Everyone
This is
Roscoe. I know I said I’d tell you about God this time, but instead I want to
talk about how I know God . . . personally!
I listen a
lot, more than most people think. In fact, being a “people” seems to be the
real problem. All my life, starting in the kennel I was kept in right after I
was born and then at the store where Jane and Ted found me, I was always in the
company of other dogs (cats, too, but I don’t want to talk about that!). We got
all tangled up with each other to keep warm and faux-fought to get our muscles
working well, but we always, always knew about God. None of us could do anything
that wasn’t part of God’s program. For instance, I couldn’t hate any animal. I
don’t have a hate switch.
All day long
it was the same: God loves all of us, he has stuff for us to do that defines
each of us. For example, I can’t see a small hole anywhere without trying to
dig in it. I want to find the bottom because there may be a critter down there.
That’s what I am, a rat killing digger. I’m the best.
Beagles,
well, they cannot stop sniffing, sniffing, and sniffing some more. They do it
when they are asleep. They do it all the time. Pointers are always stopping
suddenly with one paw up, pointing. I tell them it’s rude to point, but they
say they cannot help themselves. They got to be them, just like I got to be me!
But more about
God. All of us animals (not dumb animals, please) know the Creator. He’s always
there, he’s always aware, always on duty. We like that. He made us to be who we
are and then he stuck around to watch us, enjoy us even. God is cool.
As far as
heaven is concerned, people say we aren’t going there because we are soulless
creatures. Well, being soulless can be fun, since you can’t do anything except
what you were made to do. And you can’t, positively can’t, get in trouble. By
the way, I overhear some humans I know wishing they could find the one thing
they were made to do . . . then they would be happy. I already am happy,
because I always do what I was made to do.
I think it
must be hard to be a human, making all those decisions, all those plans. I
don’t know what a headache is, what heartburn is, but they get it all the time.
It is tough being a human, I guess.
Anyway, I
live real close to God all the time, all day, every day. Even when they give me
a haircut, like yesterday, I just take it. They’re getting old and don’t see
too well, and sometimes I get poked with the scissors. I cooperate. Ted
sometimes says, like when he has to go to the doctor, that you should
cooperate. He says, if you move around in the barber’s chair, you’re going to
get hurt.”
The donkeys
are coming up the street and I am going to have to run outside and bark through
the gate, so I better finish up. Remember I said I just do my job because I
have to do my job. Well, one day some people were here talking about God. I
guess they don’t always remember that he’s always right here, enjoying and
loving us. Anyway, some cat named Keach said, “What is the chief end of man?
Man’s chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.”
That’s it.
If you’re human, that’s your job! Glorify God and enjoy him forever! Then you
should be happy. But they say it, and then next week someone says something
like it again . . . but they don’t do it.
Seems to me
that the secret to love, and all the love I know about comes from God, is to do
the job he gave you. Simple, right?
I think Ted
and Jane and all their friends (you’re their friend, right?) should just start
glorifying God and enjoying him . . . forever! But what do I know? I’m just a
dumb animal.
The donkeys
are here! Gotta go.
Roscoe
