Conspiracy Theory: Pets Are Their Owners from a Past Life

Growing up in Italy, Anton Miguel had been a part of the Santa Maria del Fiore Catholic cathedral even before he began developing in his mothers womb. It was like a second home for Anton. In fact, for a time it was, after Anton had so graciously given up all his money in the hands of a philanthropic cause. That was, until he realized he wasn’t making enough money to continue his donations. In doing so, he lost his home, wife, and children. For months, he slept at the corner of the cathedral and prayed to the Lord for forgiveness of all the right things he did. Anton only ever did what was right but nothing much ever came out of it and that’s what surprised him and others too.

The cathedral was brought up with the utmost maintenance and required more euros Anoton would ever make in a lifetime. Eventually, the cathedral saw how much Anton was willing to do in the name of their God. They offered him a position as an usher, a greeter at the gates of church. Later he was promoted to deacon, a money collector of the people. With the goodness that surrounded everyone around Santa Maria del Fiore, no one dared reject the prospect of giving ten percent of their living back to God. Anton was very much satisfied at his current job although he’d much rather become pope. That spot was reserved for only those chosen by God and no amount of praying had helped Anton reach that goal.

One Sunday afternoon, Anoton Miguel was collecting money that had been left on the seats of those previously present for that day's sermon. He was quite pleased at the amount he collected and hurried down each aisle whistling a merry tune. Not too long, another whistle joined his, one much merrier than his. He stood up from the second row to see a rather dandy looking minstrel strolling towards his direction, fiddle in hand.

“Young sir,” cried the minstrel. “What sight it is to have come across such a fine young man so devoted in his beliefs.”

Anton looked at him in puzzlement, “Are you talking to me sir?”

The minstrel laughed and raised his stubby arms, “Why no one else is here, who else would I be referring to?”

“Well I guess it would be me then.” Miguel muttered to himself.

“What’s that? Speak up. You know an old minstrel when you see one and all that music I play has deafened these ears of mine.”

“I was jus-”

“Bahh never mind that, why don’t I play a little jig for you while you work.” The minstrel pulled a fiddle out from under his big coat and started tuning. After a few quick scales the minstrel began his melody:

      “There once was a young man 
      His name was fine as he 

      He went to town 
      And cried out loud that 
      Beau was same as he.

      People wondered why oh
      Hands drawn everywhere ye

      He told the crowd
      To look at them then 
      Found the truth was there

      No one doubted him oh
      His dog barked one two three

      He copied him 
      And made a hymn which 
      Quickly spread to thee.”
    

Anton Miguel had listened so intently he forgot to move a muscle. He clapped at the end and heard his clapping echoed by a room full of others that had joined to listen to the minstrel sing. The minstrel’s voice sounded like honey and butter.

“Now you see…” started the minstrel. “There is an old saying that your pets are the same as you. From a past life, and one even beyond that.”

The people in the cathedral stared at him in horror. Such bold words had never been spoken in public before, let alone in a church. But, before the people could charge at the tiny minstrel he cleared his throat and bellowed, “Hear me out members of the Santa Maria del Fiore. Do not be afraid, for your lord your God can stay alive within us. But what of reincarnation? The bible never specifically reaches that topic so do not come to assumptions. I am here to tell you today the good news. Be friendly with your pet animals and they will do the same to you because they are you. If you choose not to believe me, I do not force change. You all can still walk a free man from death if you choose to believe.”

After this, the crowd went wild at his words. Some even bowed, others threw coins, even a baguette landed in the midst of where the minstrel stood. He waved a hearty goodbye and he and his fiddle left the cathedral just as he had come.

However, Anton Miguel stood still in shock at what he just heard. How had the crowd so easily been swayed by the words of a stranger? It must have been the workings of the devil he thought. Nothing so great as reincarnation could ever happen on this earth. Tonight, Anton would pray to the Lord for guidance, and guidance he got because the next day he became pope.