"It´s too bad dogs can´t go to heaven," said Frank.
"Why can´t they?"
"You gotta be baptize to go to heaven."
"We ought to baptize him."
"Think we should?"
"He deserves a chance to go to heaven."
I picked him up and we walked into the church. We took him to the bowl of holy water and I held him there as Frank sprinkled the water on his forehead.
"I hereby baptize you," said Frank.
We took him outside and put him back on the sidewalk again.
"He even looks different," I said.
Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye, Ecco: New York, 2002, p. 72.
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