AS the engine roared, Harold accelerated along a slippery road. Raindrops drummed at his windshield. Then a downhill curve took him by surprise in the darkness.
“Oh, oh!” His car began to skid. Frantically, he spun the steering wheel, but couldn’t regain control.
Leaving the road, the vehicle went airborne across a narrow ditch and smashed into an oak tree. Despite the rain, Harold saw that wooden giant loom in his headlights.
Next came shattered glass and a sudden stop. The tree trunk appeared transplanted onto the car’s engine bonnet. Painlessly, Harold lost consciousness.
NEXT thing Harold knew he walked up the centre of a smoothly paved road. No traffic appeared. No rain fell. Daylight had returned, but swirling fog obscured everything beyond the pavement’s edges.
For a long time, Harold strolled uphill. Finally, a huge golden gate, held shut by a silver chain and padlock, blocked the road. Harold pressed his face to the gate’s bars and tried to peer beyond, but couldn’t see much. Gosh, the fog’s thick, like billowy clouds, he thought.
“Woof.” A familiar sound came from the fog off to the right.
Startled, Harold turned as a tail-wagging shadow emerged. Disbelievingly, he stared. “Is that you?” Crouching, he opened his arms and embraced a furry creature, who responded by exuberantly licking his face.
“Captain,” Harold murmured, pressing his suddenly tearful face to a furry, brown neck. “What are you doing here?”
The thigh-high mongrel dog who’d been Harold’s pet and companion for 12 years pulled away enough to dart his tongue at the man’s joyful tears. If Harold had been a dog, he’d have wagged his tail too.
Then Harold felt a twinge of unease. He’d buried Captain in the backyard after the dog lost a long cancer battle.
“Captain,” Harold said. “I don’t understand. Am I dreaming?”
“No,” Captain replied.
Harold gawked. Captain hadn’t spoken exactly, yet Harold had understood almost as if he’d learned animal telepathy.
Captain responded to Harold thoughts: “Here, we’ll understand each other perfectly, like we always wished we could.”
“W-w-wonderful,” Harold stuttered. “Where the hell are we?”
“Don’t mention hell,” Captain advised. “No one likes there.”
Harold hesitated before asking: “Is this heaven? Am I dead?”
Captain sniffed as dogs do when their humans say something silly. “You’re in the afterlife now. After such careless driving, it’s no surprise.”
“Hey, I wasn’t careless.”
“What else do you call speeding in bad weather?”
“Okay, you’re right. You always had such good sense.”
Captain’s tail wagged. “Correct.”
Standing, Harold turned toward the gate. “If we’re outside heaven’s gate, why is it chained shut?”
“It’s a slow day, Harold. The gatekeeper went home. Right now, you’re the only newcomer expected, and I’m on the welcome committee.”
“A committee? Who are the other members?”
“Do you remember Idol and Lady?”
“My old cats, you mean?”
“Yup, they’re inside organizing a feast to celebrate your arrival.”
“Wow! I can’t wait to see them. Idol always purred so loudly, and Lady had such charm.”
“They’re keen to see you too. At the feast, I’ll answer more of your questions about life here.”
“Great! But if those cats ordered the food, I hope it isn’t Whiskas and mice.”
“Maybe for them, but not for you -- here everyone eats only favorite foods.”
“Do past pets always welcome the arriving people?”
“Ideally! Folks appreciate that.”
Harold stroked the dog’s head. “Captain, I’m tickled to see you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, Harold.” Captain licked his fingers.
Harold approached the gate. “How do we get inside?”
“No problem.” Captain hunched and coughed, sounding like a cat fighting a fur-ball. Then he spit out a silver key.
“Wow, Captain! What a trick!” Taking the key, Harold inserted it in the lock. Moments later, they stood inside the gate.
“Is so much fog normal?” Harold asked.
“No. Usually everything’s clear and beautiful.”
Following Captain into the fog, Harold thought: I’m going to love this place.
“Most people do – most animals too,” Captain replied.
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