An Irish farmer named Muldoon lived alone in the countryside with a small dog that he loved and doted on. After many long years of faithful companionship, the dog finally died, so the farmer went to the parish priest and said, “Father, me dear old dog is dead. Could you be saying a Mass for him?”
The priest replied, “I’m so very sorry to hear about your dog’s death, but unfortunately I can’t say Mass for the poor creature.”
Muldoon said, “I understand, Father, I do. I guess I’ll go to that new denomination down the road; no tellin’ what they believe. Do you think $500 is enough to donate for the service?”
The priest replied, “Why didn’t you tell me that your dog was a Catholic?”
* * * * * *
A priest was giving a lesson on the 23rd Psalm to a group of children. He noticed that Little Johnny seemed upset by the verse,
“Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life.”
What’s wrong, Johnny? The priest asked.
“Well,” replied Little Johnny, “I’m not worried about goodness and mercy, but I’m not sure I’d like Shirley following me around all the time.”
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