Veronica loved her dog. It was a Yorkshire terrier. Its name was Randolph.
How she loved it; loved it, loved it. Poor little Randolph had arthritis. It didn’t stop him from looking after her though. He would hobble painfully to tell her of an encroaching visitor. It would cuddle up to her closely when he knew she was lonely. It was as loyal as they come. It suffered quite a lot. It did it’s best to make Veronica happy. Oh, if only some humans were so other-orientated. But Veronica had him put down. It broke her heart.
Eventually Veronica herself died. She went to heaven.
Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.
“Where’s my dog?” asked Veronica.
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Weave a Web 
if only …
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why not …
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If after doing everything for my dog (which has happened to me), there was nothing to be done to relieve the horrible pain, I would send him or her over the rainbow bridge and plan to ask the same damn question when I get there (if I do).
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… dropping dead while still in a healthy state certainly has its advantages… 🙂
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I had no doubt she would ask for him. ❤ ❤
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I think we all would do the same…?!
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No dogs allowed in heaven. They’re not baptized, so they go to limbo.
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Ah! But Benedict XVI “decreed” – and I paraphrase – that Limbo is a load of crap!
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You are a master of the humble paraphrase.
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Thank you – nothing beats a bit of papal bull.
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My idea of heaven has long been having all my dogs back on a sunny, grassy hillside. Don’t think I’d like heaven much without them.
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I never had a dog until around 2001 – when a stray “adopted me”. Up until then, I scoffed at dog owners and thought they were “nuts”.
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(silent scream)
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(I hear you)
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🙂
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Think of all those you would not like to meet again 🙂
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In life, some people are dogs. And then there are dogs.
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Heaven wouldn’t be heaven without my dog – not sure how he’ll get on with the five cats that came before him, but it’s heaven, I’m sure we’ll all get along great 🙂
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It’s everyone else’s pets that might make it crowded!
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Naturally, I don’t believe in heaven, but if my dogs believe, there’s always time to reconsider.
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Dogs have an Ariel.
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… which is to say, a sixth (and perhaps theological) sense.
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I was thinking that Ariel might be more than a sense… perhaps a god. Perhaps the taunter of we Calibans…
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Goddess, actually. And it’s all because Shakespeare is trying to keep up with our gender-muddled times. Ariel is referred to as a ‘boy’ in the original text, but is now often played by a female (think strumpet with wings). And then there’s that recent production of the Tempest where Prospero became Prospera. Traitorous if you ask me.
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Shakespeare always was one to bring home the Bacon. How sad that these characters are melted into air, into thin air.
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What a disappointment! Looks like she didn’t know God after all.
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Life’s full of surprises!
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I left my job as a vet because I could not put down animals anymore. It was 35 years ago, but you cannot forget such things can you.
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Sometimes I feel like Veronica’s dog. The question is, who is going to ask about me when the time comes?
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I shall ask… where’s that dog umashankar?
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If I get to heaven and my old pal Sonny isn’t there I’m going to have to request either a return ticket or a first-class ticket to wherever he’s been stranded.
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Overcrowding could be a problem though…
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Not enough chairs….
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