The dinner table is a good place to teach children about life and to discuss important philosophical questions. After all, they have to sit there or they won’t get anything to eat! Last week we delved into religion. The question we discussed was: where do dogs go after they die?
Most theologians think that this question was definitively settled by the Don Bluth animated movie “All Dogs Go to Heaven.” However, I am sure there is at least one dog that won’t make the cut.
When our kids started begging for a dog, we tried to make them happy with some low-maintenance alternatives instead. I wanted a pet that I could leave at home while I went on vacation for three weeks and when I came back he wouldn’t even notice I was gone. We started with goldfish and those miniature turtles, but I wasn’t a very good pet owner. I had to look in the Goldfish Owners Manual (the “Troubleshooting” section) to see what it meant when the goldfish is floating at the top of the water. It also took me three turtles before I learned that they lived longer if you put those fake plastic palm trees into the aquarium with them. I guess it makes them believe they are on an island and might be rescued any minute.
Between the ages of 9 and 11 our boys always wanted lizards or snakes. But our girls always wanted hamsters or gerbils or white rats. I thought it odd that 11-year old girls were attracted to rodents. My wife claims it is God’s way of preparing them to be attracted to 12-year old boys. I used to be a 12-year old boy myself, so I know she is right.
Like most parents, we finally caved in and got a dog. We have owned four during the last 30 years and we had a lively discussion about their eternal reward. We all agreed that if any dogs go to heaven then our Maltese “Nikki” would go there. He was fun and obedient, and he always said please and thank you. He even entertained us by singing when I played the piano. That ability might come in handy in heaven if they have Talent Shows or Heaven’s Funniest Home Videos. I said that our Cocker Spaniel “Dusty” should definitely not go to heaven. He had a bad habit of biting people. This was not good for neighbor relations or homeowner premiums. I know some people say there is no such thing as a bad dog – just a bad dog owner. If that is the case, then maybe I shouldn’t go heaven. I am OK with that as long as Dusty isn’t with me.
If you have similar questions about animals in the afterlife, I recommend you see all three cartoons Don Bluth made on the subject. The first was, of course, “All Dogs Go to Heaven.” The other two are “No Mosquitoes Go to Heaven” and “Cats Go Wherever They Want.”
David LeSueur lives in Littleton with his wife Mary and their dog Colby. The jury is still out on whether Colby will go to heaven.

I don’t watch Larry King often, but when I do he is always interviewing an aging celebrity with a checkered past. At the end of the interview he inevitably asks something like “Well, Mr. Celebrity, people have criticized you for some of the things you have done in your life. You had eight wives and were famous for your womanizing. You were arrested for drunk driving four times and stole money from your manager. As a teenager you paid someone to break your mom’s kneecaps when she grounded you. Do you have any regrets?” You and I would be ashamed to have done 10% of what he has done. But the aging celebrity always replies, “If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing!”

Being a celebrity means never having to say you’re sorry.

This caused me to think about my own life. Do I have any regrets? The first thing that came to mind was an evening in September 2006. I definitely would change what I did that night. But to understand why I am sorry, I need to relate a joke that my family has had fun with over the years.

Two sisters, Louise and Elizabeth, lived with their elderly mother and their beloved cat, Fluffy. Louise decided to go on a trip, and she called home the first night to make sure everyone was doing well. Elizabeth answered the phone and was crying. “What’s the matter?” asked Louise, “has something happened to Fluffy?”

Elizabeth took a few moments to gain her composure, and then announced “Fluffy died.”

Upon hearing the news, Louise began crying uncontrollably. She had been with Fluffy for 12 years. Finally, she said to her sister, “You shouldn’t break bad news to me so suddenly. You should have said Fluffy is up on the roof and can’t get down! Then when I called tomorrow, you could tell me that she fell getting down and was in the hospital. Then on the third day you could tell me she had died and I would be better prepared for the news. . . So how is mom?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. Finally, Elizabeth said, “Mom is up on the roof and she can’t get down.”

I’m not sure how funny that joke really is but we always had fun with it.

“Dad, my Algebra grade is up on the roof and it can’t get down!”

“Hey mom, we were playing catch in the house and somehow that living room lamp got up on the roof and it can’t get down!”

“Sorry but your dinner and it is up on the roof and it can’t get down!”

We had a cute Maltese dog named Nikki for about ten years but he died in the summer of 2006. My wife’s brother Bob and his wife Carol came to visit us from out of town a few weeks after Nikki’s death. My wife and I and my son Carl were sitting on the sofa visiting with Bob and Carol. Suddenly Carol said, “Where’s Nikki? I haven’t seen him yet.”

I was about to tell her Nikki had died when I realized that Carol had given me a unique opportunity to deliver a punch line. Time slowed down and my life passed before my eyes. I saw the other times in my life when someone had given me a classic straight line. I had always risen to the occasion. There was the time my wife and I ran into a friend and he said hello to me and asked, “So who is this beautiful lady with you?” I answered without hesitation, “That’s no lady, that’s my wife!” Then I remembered the time we were sightseeing in New York and I was looking at a map and my wife asked ”So how do we get to Carnegie Hall?” and I said “Lot’s of practice!” But those were easy. This was going to be hard. I finished watching my life and I looked at Carl. He was smiling and mouthed the words, “Dad, tell her he’s on the roof and can’t get down!” I turned to Carol, ready to deliver the punch line of my life.

I choked. “Nikki died” was all I said.

Then Mary, Carl and I began laughing.

I had to explain to Bob and Carol that we really weren’t laughing that our dog had died, but that Carol’s question had reminded us of this joke. It was an awkward moment.

So, if I am ever on Larry King, and he asks me if I have any regrets, I will have to tell him I would like to have a do-over for that one evening with Bob and Carol. I should have said Nikki was on the roof. Or at least I shouldn’t have laughed.

David LeSueur lives in Littleton with his wife. He is happy to report that neither of them is up on the roof.