One of the things I actually do believe in is balance. Since the last blog entry focused on dogs, this one will focus on cats. I wrote this in my early 20's:
One Sunday when I was in church
On a Sunday Mom made me go to church
The pastor said how wonderful heaven would be
And I cried and cried incessantly.
I drew praise for my tears
They said I had wisdom beyond my years
To be moved by the words the pastor said.
I just lowered my tear-drenched head
I let them thin what they wanted to
Even though their assumptions were untrue.
It wasn't for God's glory that I cried--
I was thinking about all my cats that died.
Who cares if people's souls go up there-
They all can hate, their deaths were all fair.
But all my cats never talked back
Despite who you were, they'd sit on your lap.
Isn't heaven supposed to be reserved for the good,
The truthtellers, the serene, the misunderstood?
If heaven turns out to be a wonderful fact
There God would leave me alone to take care of my cats.
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