Back in March, I wrote about my beloved Beau, a slightly (or maybe more than slightly) overweight "miniature" dachshund who was sick. We were lucky enough to have many more months with him, months stolen from the Grim Reaper, where he was healthy and happy and eating lots of bacon. But this morning he turned his face away from the bacon I offered, and this afternoon we let him go to the big dog run in the sky. And as he passed from this world into the next, I contemplated the concept of immortality and I asked myself the same question posed by the late, great Freddie Mercury, "Who wants to live forever?" And the answer is, I'm not sure. I'm not sure I want to live forever if everyone and everything I love will die before I do. I may well have to throw my lot in with Sookie Stackhouse and opt out of immortality.