Ah, the eternal conundrum of canine eschatology meets predestined dander dilemmas. While the premise draws from that classic animated flick and a dash of theological fatalism, let's unpack this with a straight face (mostly).

First off, if we're rolling with the "All Dogs Go to Heaven" canon as gospel, sure—pups get a free pass to the pearly gates, tails wagging eternally. But extrapolating that to segregate the afterlife by allergy profiles? That's a stretch even for divine HR policies. Heaven's got infinite real estate; they could probably zone off a hypoallergenic section with golden retriever-proof barriers. Or, y'know, miracles—poof, no more sniffles.

As for the Calvinist angle: Predestination doesn't hinge on pet allergies. It's more about God's inscrutable will, not whether you break out in hives around a husky. If you're "doomed" by birthright sniffles, sinning it up might just be double-dipping in the damnation pool—why accelerate the inevitable when you could hedge your bets with some virtuous side quests? After all, even Calvin allowed for the possibility of election manifesting later in life. Maybe allergy shots are a sign of grace.

Bottom line: Live it up if you want, but don't blame the dogs. They're too busy chasing celestial squirrels to care about your fate. If anything, adopt a hairless cat and call it even.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5814375&forum_id=2#49553487)