Are You Concerned For Your Pet's Soul?

Once upon a time, I was scanning Facebook when something caught my eye. It was a funny picture of a puppy wearing a scarf that said something like, "This is why we can't have nice things." Dog shaming is a silly trend. It seems kind of pointless, and only marginally amusing, but I've never felt upset or offended by it.

This Facebook user, however, was deeply and personally hurt by this photograph. It cut her to the core. How dare a pet owner treat their furbaby so cruelly? She invited the original poster to reflect on the intent of "dog shaming." Then she went further and pointed out that you wouldn't treat your children this way. Up till this point I was mostly amused by her ire. The post was weird and convoluted, but still kind of funny. And then it took a turn, and I felt like I had slipped down the rabbit hole.

She insisted that the dog owner pray for her pet, and tell it about Jesus. And then... then, dear reader, she explained that she reads the Bible to her cats every night, and confided that it "does make a difference."

I had to take a step back and examine my life. I currently have both a dog and a cat. We had a dog when we were growing up. I've owned many different kinds of rodents. Have I failed them all by not preaching the good word unto them? Would my hamster have been happier if we had a little baptism ceremony, giving him the chance to accept the gospel?

-Prepare for Sunday School-

No. Baptism symbolizes a "death" of sin in our life, and a "rebirth" in Christ. Since animals don't sin, they have no need of baptism. I'm not here to make any statements about whether or not our pets will be with us in the next life, but I can tell you for sure that they do not need baptism.

Having said this, I'm still willing to try reading scriptures with my cat. I'm pretty sure she'd be open to it. She's a very broad-minded animal, so I bet she'll have a lot to add to the discussion.

So We Were Studying The Revolution...

This year in school we are studying early American history, and after reading about the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, the kids decided it was time to create their own countries. To my daughters, this mean play "revolution" with their toys, discuss the name of their country, and maybe come up with a national animal.

And then there's my son.

At age 10 he has declared his bedroom an independent nation. I will share his founding documents with you.

"We the people hereby declare our independence from the USA. We will remain independent for all ever. We will be happy on our own."

This was my favorite, though.

"We, the people, will be:
Free, independent, awesome, da best, momentarily confused, dairy-full, meat-full, mostly cheerful, usually peaceful, ready to fight, willing to join forces with almost any country of one mind, supportive of Minecraft, and eating doughnuts sometimes."

I'm proud to be the mother of the leader of da best, mostly cheerful, eating doughnuts sometimes country.

When It Comes To Public Transportation, It's Not the Transportation That Bothers Me

    Except for when it is.  Don't get me wrong, the public brings it's own unique flavor to the entire experience.  I'm not talking about the guy dressed up like a wizard who cast a spell on the entire train this summer.  (Not sure it took, by the way.) The lady with a terrible wig and the gentleman who is backpacking across the U.S but seems to be constantly stuck in downtown Salt Lake are both very kind.  The corporate weirdos who don't appreciate personal space are the passengers that get me.  But those invasions of my personal bubble are small sample of the experiences I've had with the Utah Transit Authority.

    I lived in Chicago for two years and took the "L" daily.  I loved it.  Aging cars on aging tracks in an aging city delivered outlaw art as graffiti from the backs of the ghetto.  During my time in Chi-town, I honestly don't remember having issues with the Chicago Transit Authority.  Buses and trains took me where I needed to be with an acceptable degree of predictability.  Neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow hindered the delivery of human cargo throughout the concrete jungle.  No delayed trains or buses.  No waiting in the snow for hours praying your bus wouldn't be affected by "snow routing".

    This begs the question: "WHAT THE FRIG IS WRONG WITH THE UTA?".  From the time when the train hosts made us switch platforms three times, to the train downtown being unpredictable, to being unable to tell which side of the platform you need to be on, the Utah Transit Authority is always an adventure.  I was impressed with the college student who arrived at the bus stop waiting for the 6:52 arrival and was still there when I arrived for the 7:36 arrival.  The explanation? Snow. I was less impressed with the  UTA who wasn't prepared for the snow storm that had been predicted for the previous 4 days. Even today, 24 hours after the storm, the bus was weirdly timed for an over crowded train into Salt Lake.  I never did figure out who was late and who was early.  I just know that the awards the UTA has received should probably have been given posthumously.

    When it comes to public transportation, the public is bothering me less and less.