Zeus mysteriously materialized in my life a few years ago. He's a very complex, wise-cracking, irreverent dog with some serious attitude. However, he is arguably the most highly evolved being I have ever encountered. His great delight is in turning my world (and yours) inside out and upside down, with the soul purpose of revealing forgotten knowledge. For example:

An Indecent Preposition

Zeus and I were on the Del Mar cliffs watching the sun sink into the Pacific. Cloudless sunsets have never been my favorite. No kaleidoscopic pyrotechnics, just a big fireball, the source of life itself, getting swallowed up by the sea. I could see why the ancients worshiped their primitive gods, never completely certain of the next dawn without their divine intervention.

"Fear's a funny thing," Zeus said. That dog has the uncanny ability to read thoughts and doesn't subscribe to the human courtesy of respecting privacy. To him, my thoughts are his thoughts, only more naive. "Ever wonder what causes you guys to go into fear?"

"They say that when we humans feel threatened, physically or psychologically, we go into fight-or-flight mode or some other behavior meant to protect us from pain."

"Not bad," Zeus said, "but you're simply describing the surface. Go deeper. What lies at the root of all human fear?"

"Well, if fear is the opposite of love, it must mean that... " I stopped, obviously confused.

Zeus chuckled. "It's really not that difficult. Imagine you have two bar magnets. Fear is what you experience when you try to put the two north poles together. Love is what you feel when you turn one of the bars and the two magnets spring together."

"Oh, you mean fear is like repulsion and love is like attraction?"

"That would be true in physical terms," Zeus responded, "but let's go deeper still. Ultimately, the underlying force of love is unity, and the root cause of fear is separation."

"Like people seeing themselves as separate from God?"

"Exactly so!" Zeus said. "But here's the real zinger: They see themselves not only separate from God and Creation and all other humans and life forms but, because of one seemingly insignificant word, also separate from themselves."

"Now I really am confused. How can I be separate from me?"

"Why is there a Band-Aid on your left index finger?" Zeus queried.

"What a stupid question! You were there when I cut myself trying to pry open the coconut."

"Thank you. I couldn't have said it better myself."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Who did what to whom?"

"I cut me."

"Then can we safely assume that, in your little mind, I is separate from me?"

"You can assume no such thing," I stammered, "it's just a figure of speech. Or is it?" I wondered.

Zeus chose to ignore the rhetorical question. "How did you feel when it happened?"

"I was pissed. As I recall, I made a few derogatory remarks about my lack of coordination, attention, and intelligence."

"Quite a show, as I remember it," Zeus said. "A vintage humanoid reaction if ever I saw one. Now, let me repeat my last question but change the preposition. Who did what for whom? What if you revisited the circumstance of your accident from this new point of view?"

"That's semantic gibberish. What's the big difference between to and for?"

"Oh not that much, if you're into counting letters," Zeus quipped. "But their energies are as different as love and fear