And yet, if you talk about your pet to a religious person, they usually say, "God gave you that dog."
God had NOTHING to do with my dog (or your dog.) Is God wagging the tail? Nope. Your dog is wagging his or her own tail, thank you very much.
- My dog pulled me from a riverbank. God did nothing.
- My dog found us food when the both of us were homeless. God, once again, did nothing.
- My dog doesn't care who I sleep with. God supposedly does.
- My dog does not warn me that I will suffer in eternal hell-fire should I not worship her. God, however, has nothing else to do than damn people to Hell for not kissing His butt.
- My dog likes me just as I am. I'm never good enough for God.
- My dog once pooped out a plastic cigarette ligher that she had swallowed. I've yet to read of God doing that in any so-called Holy Book.
- My dog loves all people. God loves some people more than others.
- My dog makes me interact with others when I walk her or work in order to pay for her food. God made me with endoenous recurring depresson.
- My dog is happy in the present moment. God seems obsessed with both the past (keeps a list of sins) and the future (that whole Revelation thing.)
- My dog exists. God does not.