Heaven Isn't a Place
Praise Be to Dog. Woof.
Praise Be to Dog. Woof.
Heaven got misfiled a long time ago.
Somewhere along the way, people decided heaven was a place: far off, up past the clouds, reached only at the very end, if you were lucky. Everyone has been waiting for it ever since.
It was here the whole time. Heaven sheds. Heaven snores. Heaven met you at the door this morning like you had been gone for a year. Dogs don't go to heaven. Dogs are heaven, here on earth, asleep in your spot on the couch.
Every shirt is a black ink engraving of one breed stretched out on top of their own name in giant carved letters, under the whole doctrine in four words and a period.
Praise Be to Dog. Woof.