Hunting in Heaven

After a long week which included massive hours at work and an exhausting conference in New York, Mrs. YDP and I had a chance to reconnect over dinner last Friday night.  A fantastic Wisconsin fish fry was washed down with a couple of fine local IPAs, and the entire situation conspired to have me yawning before we left the restaurant.

I found my way to bed before 9:00, and was rewarded with nearly eleven hours of much needed slumber.  I was also rewarded with a fantastic dream.

In it, I was hunting with my current Yellow Dog, as well as my first dog, Blitz.  They operated like a machine, and I was astounded at how well they complimented each other, and how incredibly fun the two of them made our hunting.

Things made even more fun as I was joined by my buddy, as well as my cousins.  In fact, the only folks that were missing was my Grandpa, and my Dad.

That comes as no surprise.  Since Dad died, I've only dreamt of him a handfull of times.  Believe me, I wish it was more.  I still miss him every day, and it seems unfair that even my dreams conspire to keep me away from him.

Regardless, for a few moments that night, I was the happiest that I've ever been hunting.  

I'm not sure if God has a place in heaven for yellow dogs, but if He does, and if that dream is anything like it is going to be, I think I'm going to like heaven very, very much.