HAPPY IN HEAVEN: My brother Eric wrote of my deceased dog:

I like to think he's with Bruno [note: Vladi's old running mate, also a rescued Airedale, died about three years ago] now... not quite so sore. And happy to know when to bark at the people who walk by [note: Vladi needed Bruno's leadership on many fronts]. He'll be waiting for you outside your door when you leave here as well.

If this was true...or more importantly...if you could prove it...think how much anxiety and heartache that would just sail away into the ethers. If Trisha's dad and Paul's dad and my grandparents and my uncle and all our pets and loved ones and leaders and icons were all waiting somewhere, cured and whole, my God, that would really be something. Not only would we regain our family and friends and pets, but we, too, would be able to be remade as new. It buoys me to imagine it. But alas, although I "like to think" it, as Eric wrote, I'm not necessarily inclined to *believe* it. Therein lies the rub. Therein arises the faith. Or not. Therein rests the riddle of everything.