Afterlife?

The more I puzzle over this the more convinced I become that we are just biological entities that come and go. That's the beginning and end of it all. No reincarnation, no heaven or hell, no afterlife. Here then gone. And I'm OK with that. It forces me to focus on today.

I can only surmise that the belief in anything beyond this world is grounded in fear and the realization that we can't control very much. If we can control another world or plane of existence (and the entrance thereto) then we have an out for our behavior in this one. I cannot fathom spending my whole life believing that going to church or temple once a week or praying five times a day or whatever will give me a leg up when I die. Isn't it far more important to interact with people every day, here and now, and give them the best of me? I do a lousy job of it, too - there aren't enough great stories of thinking of others before myself - but I am cognizant of it and keep trying to get back on that beam.

Why is an afterlife so important to humans? How does adhering to a religious faith help? And what's up with using that faith to justify bad behavior? How does it help me today if you tell me I'm not good enough because I don't believe what you believe? More importantly, to my mind anyway, how does that help you? How can that train of thought possibly make your day better? It sure can't be healthy. It has to be a matter of control. If you can control my way of life, you must be right, and by extension you are in control. I am as mystified by an Islamic suicide bomber as I am by the Buddhist mobs in Burma or the Janjaweed in Darfur. Where is the peaceful aspect of this behavior? What's the goal? And don't all of these faiths have some variation on the theme of a golden age? If that's what we're all hoping for then what are we all waiting for?

I'll just try to have my own little golden age.

My pit bull

Teena is decidedly more grey than she was when I got her last year, but she is wearing it well. This is the face of a beautiful animal. After reading about the 360 pit bulls rescued from a life of fighting this week I get why some people are afraid of the breed. There's no question that the prominence of their jaw can give one pause (at one time I had a video of her crushing the sidewall of a pretty substantial tire), but, like any pet, nature and nurture come together to create the whole.

Teena was likely kept solely for breeding, then kicked out when they were done with her. She was found behind a grocery store, emaciated, sick and lacking social skills. After a year-plus in a shelter she came into my life and I can't picture it any other way. The awesome folks at PAWS here in Philly rescued her and gave her a start on a new life. They got her healthy (including enrolling her in a life-long study at Penn Vet when it was determined that she had breast cancer), socialized her and tried with all their might to find her a good home.

There were some serious considerations in this regard: no other pets, no little kids. Since I'm single this worked out well, and most of the initial concerns have turned out to be less troubling than we expected - she loves people, including kids, and she does well around smaller dogs. Larger dogs are a no-go. She sits down and growls if a larger male dog gets too close and she will not hesitate to snap if she feels threatened. She has drawn blood on one particularly aggressive bulldog. Yes, I always walk her on a leash and try to maintain a reasonable distance from other animals, but I can't control everyone else's pet, so interaction is inevitable. My point is simply that, as gentle and happy as she is 97% of the time, she could do some serious damage if she had to. And I suspect that's the case with all pit bulls.

Teena has grown quite comfortable around me. She doesn't like going to her cancer checkups as much anymore because we get separated. It's been interesting to watch. The first time we went she knew where she was and the staff confirmed their earlier comments in her records that she is a delightful patient. The next time we went she wouldn't go out of my sight. So we've bonded and of that I am extremely proud. The simplicity of a dog-human relationship should be experienced by everyone. Maintaining that simplicity is the responsibility of the owner. It's really that simple.