Friends Beyond the Last Heartbeat

September 4, 2016


An afterlife, hmm, maybe? An afterlife with all the troubles and luxuries of the fleshy vessel, why? Oh, I get it...

Wrapped in cloth, gummed with resin and stuffed like a turkey. The Egyptians had a plan for what they left behind. They needed functioning meat sacks, sort of, to get around as a ghost. Good thing we’ve come so far. Maybe not so far, the world has come at least a little way.

Need your skin in the afterlife? Pfft! No skin necessary: fly to Heaven, to space, roam the land forever. Easy as breathing.

In the vessel-free system we do lose something. Something the Egyptians didn’t care to lose. Hell, they slaughtered four-legged friends, en masse, to fight potential dreary loneliness of the afterlife.

Come on, Spot! Come on, boy!

Whiskers? Whiskers, where are ya? Here kitty-kitty!

Like suckers, modern folks are dying without their favorite friends, without their fuzzy, fluffy, flea-ridden, butt-sniffing pals. It’s sad really. What is Heaven without your favorite quadrupeds? I know some suggest that love will cart the souls of the dead animals right behind you, snapping and nipping the whole way.

What’s that you say? Your cat died and you feel far from the satin walls and dirt ceiling?

Oh, you don’t believe in the afterlife and you miss your buddy now?

You’ve been Googling real Pet Sematary hoping to pull a Church?

Think it through. Remember when Buster dragged a bloody, wormy butt smear all over the carpet? Remember when he ate your shoes? Remember when Lucky scratched a hole through the couch?

What, you say you don’t care? You miss the goods? Nice to forget the rest, but you’d take all the trouble if only…

Well folks, we’re all in luck!

And I’m not talking about making a rag raisin out of old Boots, not even talking about the age-old stinking trick of taxidermy. That’s old news. Cock-eyed, lumpy and stinking of lively microorganisms just trying to be, feasting and festering. Nuh-uh.

There’s a better way.

Clear space on your coffee table because it’s time to drop a grand on Misty’s fat rump one last time. Pet Preservation through Freeze Dry Technology has you covered. According to the website ( all you gotta do is bag and freeze your dead mammal in any standard freezer. Not even a fancy cryogenics tube! Then, just like the Christmas gifts for the side of the family that lives in the trailer park, you slap a few stamps on the carcass and wave bon voyage.

From there, the magic of freeze-drying takes over and in three, four, five, maybe six months -probably long enough to get over the damned thing and rescue a kitten or a pup from the shelter- your pal will come back through the mail and you can forever grieve your recycled edition pet.

But why stop with pets?

Think of the thrill Grandma will get when she unwraps her recently dead husband next Christmas. Fetus in a jar on the bookshelf? Soften that bookend. Lose that jar!

The future is dead and freeze-dried. The best we can hope for is that the folks fixing our shapes puts smiles on our faces.

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Powell River, British Columbia, Canada
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