Write about a character pretending to be someone they're not.
So, before the drama started, I decided to take J.C. to a psychic/medium bookstore/shop. There, the cashier recommended J.C. get a past life regression. She said if I recorded it, and J.C. wasn't Jesus in a past life, it would prove to the media that J.C. doesn't stand for Jesus Christ, it stands for Jack Charlie. So, Jessica recommended this place. She was one of the few people, other then my coworkers, that I told about my miracle dog, J.C.
So, the A.T.D (Alliance of Therapy Dogs) said I'd have to have three examinations with J.C in different locations, pass a written test, and Jeff would pay the annual fee. Before that, I knew we'd be bombarded by J.C.'s miracle tongue, so I called Jessica and asked her for advice and she recommended this psychic shop: Future Times. We'd gone in and now J.C is getting a past life regression. I wonder if they'd ever done a past life regression on a dog.
A young woman, probably in her mid-twenties, took us through a red curtain into a dark room with a small candle holder with a smaller light bulb inside, which was on. She then told J.C. and I to have a seat in a black seat which was hard; it hurt my behind. Then, though, she put on soft classical music and told J.C to take deep breaths and to close his eyes and J.C did. I couldn't even get J.C to sit at times, but he was a good dog.
Then, the young woman, named Sarah, told J.C to relax his lower paws and I felt the pads of his paws loosening. Then, she had him relax his lower leg, relax his leg, relax his behind, relax his stomach, relax his chest, relax his face, and relax his eyes. J.C then rolled into a ball the way he does when he's ready to go to sleep, but he didn't dig into me this time. Then, Sarah tells J.C to imagine himself going down flights of stairs and she counts. She says, “20, deeper and deeper. Getting more relaxed.” And she does this with each step, telling J.C to relax. Then, Sarah tells J.C. to imagine himself going into a beautiful white light and she asks him what he's wearing. I think to myself Dogs don't wear anything. Then, he speaks to Sarah and me through telepathy and he tells us he's wearing a white cloth. She asks him to look at his feet and he's wearing sandals. Then, she asks him what his name is and J.C says, “Hesus” That's good. J.C realises he wasn't Jesus Christ. But as the regression continues, J.C realizes he's in Israel and describes his friends Paul, Joseph, etc. and J.C seems to be the reincarnation of Jesus Christ. But, this doesn't make sense. J.C can't be the son of God. I've seen him try to mate with other dogs at the dog parks. Or maybe I'm under hypnosis and dreaming all of this. I'm recording this on my cell phone so we'll know afterwards what happened.
He described to story of the woman prostitute, the story of “Give unto Caesar, that which is Caesar's” and a lot of other New Testiment stories. But, this is impossible. He's just a dog. A good dog, but just a dog. Then, it comes into my head. A few years ago, there was a news story about a policeman who discovered a typo on a floormat. The floormat said, “In Dog We Trust” and the policemen were going to throw it away, but thousands of people called asking if they could have the floormat if the police didn't want it. God is dog spelled backwards.
After the hour, Sarah brought J.C out of the meditation by having J.C. Step out of the white light and climb the stairs. Sarah kept saying J.C was becoming more and more awake, until she had him wiggle his toes and wag his tail. This was not what I hoped for. Now, Jack Charlie himself thought he was Jesus Christ, but he can only speak telepathically, which won't do the newscasters any good.
I paid the place $75 for the past life regression, which I had recorded. Now what? He was Jesus, sick people will be everywhere, and we'll never get sleep. Then, I thought about it and there is a Catholic church I passed several times but never went into. So, J.C and I stop in the church, I dip my finger in the water, crossed myself, and enetered the church. After asking a few people, we found our way to the confessional. There, I told the priest, we had broken the First Commandment “Though Shalt Have No Other Gods Beside Me”
The priest started going looney when I told him what had happened with my gallbladder though. So, just for kicks, we decided to put J.C. into the fountain near the pulpit. I tossed him in and he stood on top of the water. No dog paddle, he just stood there. Then, the priest bowed to my dog and crossed himself. I just don't believe this, my dog is the reincarnation of Jesus Christ?
So, we go back home and there are four people outside our door, two in wheelchairs. Damn it. Goddamn it. I thought about what to do and asked how I could help them and one man (one of the two in a wheelchair) said, “I heard you got a very special pet there and . . . “ I interjected with, “And he's not for sale,” and J.C and I walked inside.
The four people turned into eight, which turned into twenty, so I decided to do what any good Christian would do for people waiting to be healed in front of their doorstep: I called the police.
The police came and listened to these lunatics and told them since this is my private property, they could not stay on it, but they could stand on the sidewalks, since it's public property. And they did. They waited to have J.C. lick their pains away. Idiots. It seems like the crazy things always happen to me. He's not God, he's just a dog. Then, the first phone call came from the media asking for an interview with J.C. Shit.