Our family was blessed with two litter-mate beagles that shared a single brain cell. One of the commands I had taught the pair – much to the delight of the friends of our tween-aged girls who loved to join in – was to “go to hell.” At the command of “Tuck, Andy, go to hell,” they would obligatorily get up and waddle to the spot of the house they had learned was “hell.”
Years later when an old aged Andy had to be put down, I sent the extended family an email notifying them that Andy “had gone to the great dog park in the sky.” Barely had I hit the send button then a reply from my nephew arrived, “In one last act of defiance, Andy has refused to go to hell and has gone to heaven instead!” It was some levity our family needed on an otherwise very sad day.