The Good News of Jesus Christ

A few mornings ago, I was sitting in my front room in my Hello Kitty pajamas when my Kelpie mix, Saffron, fired off in a succession of barking. Bartleby, the Pit mix, barked in turn, climbing up on a piece of furniture, maybe the give the illusion to whoever was behind the door that he and Saffron were a force to be reckoned with (a fancy term which here means, be given belly rubs). I slightly parted the slats in the blinds to see who was on the porch. They had nametags and Books of Mormon. They looked over and saw me. They saw me see them. There was no going back. I didn’t want to seem rude.

My front door consists of a basic wooden door and a storm door, and after I opened the wooden door, I had to brace Bartleby because the storm door isn’t particularly sturdy and Bartleby will bound through just about any obstacle if it means he can make new friends. Bartleby had stopped barking at this point, but Saffron had not. I stood there, standing over Bartleby with his upper body in my arms, while Saffron locked eyes with the women on the other side, barking continuously.

I could hear maybe 70% of what the Mormons said. It was a good thing they had name tags, because I missed most of their introduction. During the whole time they stood there talking to me, Saffron just barked over and over. I heard enough to hear them say that I have a cute house and beautiful dogs and would I like to hear the good news of Jesus Christ. “No thanks,” I said. Saffron’s about ready to herd you. I’m not saying Mormons are sheep, by the way, I’m saying Saffron wants to herd everyone. Saffron once tried to herd my boss.

The Mormons seemed completely unphased by Saffron barking at them. He’s only like 45 pounds, he doesn’t really phase me either. The Mormons said that part of what they do is provide service to people, and did I or someone I know need any service? I declined, but after the Mormons left and Saffron recovered from their presence, I walked into my kitchen and saw the 2+ weeks’ worth of dishes rotting in my kitchen, and it occurred to me that I could have used their service.

After a few days of thinking about it, the list got longer. I would go to perform a chore, and I’d think, Why am I doing this? I could have had the Mormons do this.

So, be warned, Mormons of the world, if another pair of you come to my door, I’ll be asking y’all to do the following:

• Wash my dishes
• Clip Edgar’s nails
• Steam clean the front room carpet
• Change the oil in my car

Because, the good news of Jesus Christ (in theory anyway), is that you can convince unassuming strangers to clip your cat’s nails.

Cleaning the refrigerator will not be on the list. Edgar has that covered.