A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man
was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to
him that he was dead. He remembered dying, and that
the dog had been dead for years. He wondered where the
road was leading them.

After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall
along one side of the road. It looked like fine
marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a
tall arch that glowed in the sunlight. When he was
standing before it, he saw a magnificent gate in the
arch that looked like mother of pearl, and the street
that led to the gate looked like pure gold.

He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got
closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side. When he
was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, where are
we?"

"This is Heaven, sir," the man answered.

"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the man
asked.

"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice
water brought right up." The man gestured, and the
gate began to open.

"Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come in,
too?" the traveler asked.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets."

The man thought a moment and then turned back toward
the road and continued the way he had been going.

After another long walk, and at the top of another
long hill, he came to a dirt road which led through a
farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed.
There was no fence. As he approached the gate, he saw
a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a
book.

"Excuse me!" he called to the reader. "Do you have any
water?"

"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there". The man
pointed to a place that couldn't be seen from outside
the gate. "Come on in."

"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to
the dog.

"There should be a bowl by the pump."

They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was
an old fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it. The
traveler filled the bowl and took a long drink
himself, then he gave some to the dog.

When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward
the man who was standing by the tree waiting for them.

"What do you call this place?" the traveler asked.

"This is Heaven," was the answer.

"Well, that's confusing," the traveler said. "The man
down the road said that was Heaven, too."

"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and
pearly gates? Nope. That's Hell."

"Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name
like that?"

"No. I can see how you might think so, but we're just
happy that they screen out the folks who'll leave
their best friends behind."

Sometimes, we wonder why friends keep forwarding jokes
to us without writing a word, maybe this could
explain:

"When you are very busy, but still want to keep in
touch, guess what you do -- you forward jokes.

When you have nothing to say, but still want to keep
contact, you forward jokes.

When you have something to say, but don't know what,
and don't know how, you forward jokes."

"And to let you know that: you are still remembered,
you are still important, you are still loved, you are
still cared for, guess what you get? A forwarded joke
from me."

"So my friend, next time if you get a joke, don't
think that I have sent you just a joke, but that I
have thought of you today and wanted to send you a
smile."