Last week, I had a dream about my dog, the one who died last year. Suffice it to say, when I woke up, it felt like he’d just died all over again. It put me in a strange mood, made me ask questions I usually try to ignore: “What is the meaning of life?” or “What happens to those we love when they die?” For me, these questions are inextricably tied to all ethics, including the ethics underlying my choice to be vegan. . There is only one person in my life (other than my therapist) with whom I can share my deepest thoughts, my scariest hurts. And that is Anthony. But… Anthony and I don’t always speak the same love language, and, as a result, I’m very guarded around him, even though I don’t want to be. I don’t like to talk to Anthony about my grief. There’s some part of me that understands, instinctively, that this wound remains open and quivering, and should Anthony brush up against it with anything less than surgical precision, he will hurt me. So, I stayed aloof and distant. And he recip...