A Catholic priest found a small boy with a sign advertising "Catholic pups for sale" outside church one Sunday after Mass, and wished his enterprise well.

The next Sunday he saw the same boy setting up for sales outside the Baptist church. Curiosity prompted him to stop, and it was rewarded as he got out of his car to see that a new sign read "Baptist pups for sale."

"Hey, young fella," he protested; "Last week you advertised those same pups as Catholics!"

"Yes Father," the boy replied, "but this week their eyes have opened!"

*****

After a very draining day, Father Finnegan's long-anticipated supper was suddenly disturbed by a phone call. "Father, can you help me?" came the voice of a newcomer to the village. "Why yes, of course, my son," he soothed somewhat reluctantly into the phone. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"Well Father, my dog has just died and I'd like you to arrange his funeral."

Being as diplomatic as weariness and indignity would allow, Father Finnegan replied: "Well my son, I'd have to get permission from the bishop, which could take some considerable time. It's possible that the Baptists could look after you more urgently, though they may be a little conservative for such an event. So why don't you try the new Pentecostal pastor. He's always interested in things that are a little different." "Thank you so much Father. I'll contact him right away. Do you think he would accept a token of our appreciation, like a cheque for a thousand pounds?"

"By all the saints!" roared Father Finnegan. "Why didn't you tell me the dog was a Catholic!"