The Pet Theory of God

My friend had a few martinis and shared with me her “drunk God talk” about how she was like her cat, and God was like her.

“I have to give my cat ear drops,” she related, “and he hates it. There’s no way I can explain it to him, because he’s a cat. He just doesn’t have the ability to understand that I’m doing it because I love him and it will make him feel better.”

So it is with her and God, she says. “I figure when bad things happen, I just don’t have the ability to understand why. God loves me, but that doesn’t mean that everything is going to feel good.”

I concur. I definitely feel like a pet. I appreciate what my “owner” does for me! I have a nice little cage where I’m safe and well taken care of. When I head out for a walk in my neighborhood, I think “Time for a stroll around the cage!” And it’s nice!

I had a dream in which I perceived the relative size of myself versus that of my “owner;” that is, the god-like being who is responsible for my life. I clearly saw a shoe – (yes, a shoe!) – and I was as tall as the toe of the shoe. So that means that I am roughly guinea-pig size, relative to my guardian being.

I’m a little disappointed I’m not dog- or even cat-sized, but that’s not up to me, and really, why should it matter? My cage is comfortable: I have enough to eat, a warm and comfortable place to sleep, and various human-appropriate toys to play with. I’m one of the lucky ones, perhaps adopted from a shelter for stray souls.

It is exciting to imagine what the mind of my “owner” would be like, if it were as far above my mind as mine is above a guinea-pig’s. What does it take to be competent to care for the complete life of a human being? The extrapolation from my own mind is rather dizzying!⭐️

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