While you point fingers as to who goes to heaven, ponder this.
Years ago, fundamentalists told me that God put bluebirds here just for our pleasure.
I replied, “That must be why there are fewer of them around each year.”
Soon after, I overheard a telephone conversation between God and St. Peter, God talking of course: “That you Pete? You say you have another busload of Christians you’re bringing up to heaven. Aren’t those the creatures I gave that beautiful planet Earth to and they trashed it out?
“Turn that bus around, Pete, and bring up another load of bluebirds.”
You folks dictate that you have a soul, but that your cat doesn’t. I’m not gonna dictate, but give you a choice: If you have a soul, so does your cat.
If your dog doesn’t have a soul, then neither do you. Remember, your choice. Remember also, your fellow man wrote the Bible, not your cat.
Just as you’re probably not the “chosen people,” you’re probably not the “chosen creature” either, even with your opposing thumbs. My guess, God loves animals, trees, shrubs and flowers as much as he loves you.
And your parakeet will make it to heaven, too, not because you bring him in a cage, but on his own accord. You see, from day to day, God may want to hear the singing of a thousand different varieties of birds.
After all, listening to you playing the harp every day forever will grow kind of old.