I don’t know about doggie heaven, but I know doggie hell exists.
I know where it is on a map.
It’s in my kitchen. Every time I cook and look at Talulah’s face, she stares at me as if she’s getting tortured beyond her threshold for pain.
Maybe she’s been reincarnated as a dog, and getting punished for something in a past life.
Can you believe that she was not in existence for all of time — 6,000 years if you’re a young earther or 13.75 billion years if you’re smart — and then two years ago she was born.
She eventually came to live with us, where she’s daily faced with an arsenal of cooking fragrances: bacon, steaks, garlic, citrus, chicken (gosh, she loves the smell of chicken). I don’t know if she hates one thing I cook.
Remember this the next time you torture you’re dog.
It could qualify you as a torturer.
You could be tried, convicted, and sent to prison.
You doggie torturer.