Some call him Henson.
It all started several years ago when Josh and I decided to confront Henson with his food-stealing and trash-digging sins. We sat both him and the cat down and shared with them their sinful condition and how they could dedicate their lives to the Lord and be fully forgiven and saved.
The cat was very responsive and repented immediately. She has since been living her life as a servant, and has been exhibiting the fruits of the spirit daily.
The dog, on the other hand, would have none of this religious stuff and has since increased his sinful ways. These including barking at people when they hug, getting stuck in the blinds while people pass by on the sidewalk, and digging on the carpet and couch cushions trying to make them somehow more comfortable. His idols include Piggy and Squeaky Bear. Both are regularly covered in drool as he tries to wedge them in your arm so you will be forced to throw them for him.
The sin has escalated to a point that Josh and I are extremely alarmed. A few days ago, Henson managed to get a stick of butter off the table and was scarfing it down quickly to avoid getting caught. I came around the corner and there he was, sucking the thing down his throat whole like a snake might eat a furry woodland creature. Our eyes met, and I saw the pain and guilt he has been harboring for quite some time. When I walked over to him, his eyes grew fierce and he growled at me (trying to protect his precious precious butter). This ended with me grabbing him by the scruff of then neck and launching him into the garage. He barked in anger for sometime (I think he said something about “injustice” and “right to a trial” and “cruel and unusual”). Eventually he stopped barking and I let him back into the house. I forgave his sins, yet again, and looked sadly on his now slightly fatter body.
Problem is, I don’t see him repenting anytime soon. I fear that his life will end tragically and he will be unsaved. Sometimes I see him dreaming (probably about Piggies and Squeaky Bears dipped in butter) and mumblling to himself, “My precious…my precious.”
Some call him Henson.