by Jan Cronos

It was dreary and overcast as James ran into Doc on the street corner. He stared at the shaggy gray and white dog sitting by his old friend.

“That’s one nice looking dog you got there, Doc, even though his face is covered by fur.” Doffing his Mets cap, James scratched his thinning hair. “What’s his name?”

“This here’s Jesus,” said Doc.

“C’mon Doc! What kind of name is that for a dog?” Rolling his blue eyes, James crossed himself.

With a sigh, Doc wrapped the leash around one chubby arm. “Look, James. Everyone knows dog is god spelled backwards.”

“Yes, but….”

“No buts about it,” said Doc, patting his own rear end. He felt for the bulge of his back pocket and pulled out a copy of the New Testament. “Besides, this dog here is the resurrected savior. I’m sure of it.” Leafing through the text, Doc stopped at a passage and nodded. “It’s right here, see, in John 20:26–28:  Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”

“Okay,” said James. “I know that verse. That’s where Thomas sees the resurrected Christ. So where does it say Christ looked like a dog?”

“It’s implied, James. That’s the way it is in the bible. You have to read between the lines. Don’t judge a book by its cover or a dog by its fur.” Frowning, Doc crouched down and dug his hand into the large furry flank of the dog. The dog barked again and lolled his tongue.

“Don’t you get it, James?” Doc stood up. “Reach out your hand and put it into my side.  That’s the dog form of Jesus asking to be petted.”

“That’s ridiculous,” snorted James, sticking his pinky in his ear to dig out a chunk of wax. “Even if Jesus was resurrected as a dog, how do you know it was this dog?”

Doc sighed. “It’s obvious.” He riffled through the bible again. “Here it is,” he exclaimed, reading in a loud, sonorous voice. “‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost!’ 

James shrugged. “So?”

“For Christ’s sake James”, said Doc in a loud voice, “stop doubting and believe. Jesus was talking about finding lost sheep.”

James frowned. 

“Don’t you see James? Jesus here is a sheep dog,” Doc said proudly. “He knows how to find a lost sheep.”

Stroking his chin, James blinked.  He was a little confused. He stared at the dog. Doc was right. Jesus was a sheepdog. “Okay, Doc,” he said, “I’ll give you that. He’s a sheepdog for sure. But how do you know this sheepdog is the Jesus sheepdog?”

“Aha! Now you’re beginning to see.” Doc patted Jesus again. “Proverbs 26:11: As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly.”

“Huh?” James scratched again.

“Guess where I found old Jesus, James? In the church garbage dump sniffing a puddle of puke!” Doc chuckled. “Jesus did returneth to his vomit.”

“I dunno,” muttered James.

Just then, Jesus squatted. Moaning, he pooped on the sidewalk.

“Holy crap, it stinks,” yelled James, wrinkling his nose. “That can’t be Jesus.”

“Hey, you gonna clean that up?” The officer was burly with thick red hair. A black Doberman walked at his side. Snarling, the Doberman bared its teeth at Jesus, who whimpered and pressed against Doc.

“Easy, Judas,” snapped the officer. The Doberman sat down.

James rolled his eyes.

The officer grunted, wagging a finger at Doc. “Proverbs 12:10 says, a righteous man cares about his animal’s health. Hey, I don’t see a license on that animal.”

“This isn’t an animal officer,” explained Doc, “it’s Jesus Christ in the flesh, resurrected.”

“Right. Whatever you call that dog, pal, you’re getting a summons. One, for walking an unlicensed animal and the second for soiling the sidewalk.”

The sky darkened and thunder rumbled. Then the wind howled and it began to rain. Lightning split the sky.

“What the hell,” shouted the officer, who was getting drenched. The Doberman wailed.

James was ankle-deep in water, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, please,” cried James.

With a growl, Jesus rose on his hind legs, pawing at the heavens. The wind died down, the rain stopped and the sun shone.

James kneeled. “Matthew:23-27,” he whispered.  “Then He arose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.”

The Doberman splooted, covering its nose with its paws.

“Jesus Christ,” whispered the officer staring at Doc.

“Yep, that’s him,” said Doc with a smile, patting the sheepdog.

“Amen,” added James.

“Sorry,” said the officer, scribbling in his book, “but you still have to pay a fine.”

“Ah, what pangs patient merit of the unworthy takes,” said Doc, pulling bills out of his wallet. 

“Proverbs,” asked James.

‘Shakespeare,” replied Doc.

“All’s well that ends well,” declared the officer, as Jesus wagged his tail.