Devil Angel

There are rules...or I should say principles to learn to become an angel dog. Yesterday I screwed up royally. I swear, I couldn't help it and if I were being totally honest here, I'm not sure I feel sufficiently contrite about my error in judgment to EVER pass the muster up here at the Rainbow Bridge. My knobby little pair of wings will probably never blossom into glorious, pure white fluttering appendages like my brother Jason and my silly sister Sarah has. If I didn't have such a macho image to maintain, I'd sit down and cry about that.

What exactly did I do? you ask. I crossed over the line and possessed little Levi for a few minutes. I truly, truly couldn't---why won't anyone believe me---help myself. As an angel in training we're suppose to learn how to look out for our earthly charges without twisting their desire to fit our own purposes. How was I supposed to know that doing the latter was more like the devil's work? The angel pledge is full of fine print. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Who reads all that?

Anyway, back my heartfelt confusion. Levi was in the bathroom while Mom was peeing and I saw him looking at the flash of white paper that came off the roller. "Do it!" I shouted in his head. "Grab it!" And he did! I know I possessed Levi for a few moments because he's been watching Mom pee and pull toilet paper off the roll for two months now and he just accepted that flash of paper as something humans do. It was none of his business and he had that down pat until I planted the naught idea in his head. This time---because of me---he snatched the paper out of Mom's hand, took off running and left her holding air. I used to do that all the time in my the first two years and last six months on earth.

Jason said that what I did was bad in principle but not in deed.

"What the heck does that mean?" I asked him.

He gave me that wise-old-monk-on-a-mountain-top look of his, laughed and said, "Grasshopper, some answers you must find in your heart." ©



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