For those of you who haven't watched The Book of Life or The Shack yet, this may seem a little out of context. But for those who have, I can only describe it as I relived it. Well, at least the basic outline. Recently my dog passed away and I was devastated. Weeks later, I had a very strange but reassuring dream. It began with me traveling quickly through these fantastical worlds, including a video game style universe, a flooded world where streetlamps changed the color of rainwater from silver to gold, and a thick jungle. I didn't stay in each world for very long. I was on a quest; a mission to get somewhere I didn't quite know where, but my feet told me where to go. When I reached the end, I found myself staring at my house. Cautiously, I entered, and although it was slightly rearranged, the majority of it was the same.
There on the back of the couch where he always used to sit was my dog. He couldn't talk, but I was given the message that he was okay and he was safe and happy. The wall to my right was different, almost like a lab and they were doing something. I wasn't sure if I was welcomed, and my dog agreed that I didn't belong there, but he himself didn't belong anywhere else. He told me to go, to leave quickly and not to worry. Reluctantly, I left. It was like I was moving through my house as if I were awake. The hallway, the doors, the mudroom, it was all the same, which only made it feel more real. When I exited the house, it was summer out and a light mist was settling throughout the neighborhood. Everything looked the same and it was hard to know if I was awake or asleep. Within moments, I was back where I started, which I honestly can't remember, but then I woke up, and I was back at my house, my dream's destination.
Again, for the second time in my entire life, tears carved their way down my cheeks and I struggled to hold myself together. I retraced the steps I took in my dream and it nearly broke me. It almost seemed like there was a message in my dream; that my dog was home, even in heaven, and that heaven was––is––home. Bittersweet, yes. I'm relieved that I received the impression that he's okay and happy. That's all I want for him. I miss him so much, but if he's content on where he is now, then I'm content.