Muldoon lived alone in the Irish countryside with only a pet dog for company.
One day the dog died, and Muldoon went to the parish priest and asked, “Father, me dog is dead. Could ya’ be saying’ a mass for the poor creature?”
Father Patrick replied, “I’m afraid not; we cannot have services for an animal in the church. But there are some Baptists down the lane, an there’s no tellin’ what they believe. Maybe they’ll do something for the creature.”
Muldoon said, “I’ll go right away Father. Do ya’ think $5,000 is enough to donate to them for the service?”
Father Patrick exclaimed, “Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus! Why didn’t ya tell me the dog was Catholic?
One day the dog died, and Muldoon went to the parish priest and asked, “Father, me dog is dead. Could ya’ be saying’ a mass for the poor creature?”
Father Patrick replied, “I’m afraid not; we cannot have services for an animal in the church. But there are some Baptists down the lane, an there’s no tellin’ what they believe. Maybe they’ll do something for the creature.”
Muldoon said, “I’ll go right away Father. Do ya’ think $5,000 is enough to donate to them for the service?”
Father Patrick exclaimed, “Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus! Why didn’t ya tell me the dog was Catholic?
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