There was a dog, once, whose master was sick beyond the skill of any doctor. When the dog heard that there was a magical fruit that could cure his master, he left immediately in search of that fruit. Ever
just out of reach, the fruit drew him to search higher and lower, farther and wider across the land, beyond mountains and oceans until at last he found what he was looking for. The fruit hung lonely at the edge of the world, guarded by the world-spirit in the form of an old man seated in front of the gnarled, ancient tree. The world-spirit asked why he had come, and laughed kindly when the faithful dog revealed his mission.
"I'm afraid that will be quite impossible, for you have already died, and can no longer return to your master's side."
The dog had indeed died, many years into his journey, but such was his entire devotion to the quest that his spirit had not noticed when his body fell behind.
I always hated that story.
Posted by Gregory Taylor
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
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