Family Man

The Search for the Truths of a Little White Dog

It was a dilemma, really. How do you get the teenage Son of God laid? He clearly needed to have the experience. Even a little tiny white dog such as myself could see that. If you’re going to be fully human, you absolutely have to go all in and have all the standard experiences.

But the obstacles were, as I recounted in my last tale, also absolutely formidable.

The Universe and I consulted on this at length and finally agreed to elevate the problem to God Himself.

This time we did not have to go to hell. At least at first. God, thank God, was in heaven this time around and the Universe and I went to visit him resting in the standard cushion of pearly white clouds with angels singing all around Him.

"I understand the problem," He told us. "But this isn't my department."

”Everything is your department,” replied the Universe. “You’re God.”

“Yes, but remember, I created Harvard Business School just so that I could go to it in the first place. And the first thing they taught me was to delegate. This particular job belongs in another department, not in heaven.”

I rolled my huge tiny-dog eyeballs in despair at that remark, because I could see exactly where this was heading. The universe, however, is not so prescient as a little white dog (I'm just a little bit smarter than it overall) and it didn't.

“So where does it belong?“ the Universe asked all innocently and stuff.

“This,” commented the Most Very Holy One of Ones, "is exactly why I created Satan in the first place. Go see him.”