Interesting, this; as Tomas has operated on a cancer in their beloved dog, Karenin, and brought him home after surgery:
They lifted him onto their bed, where he quickly fell asleep, as did they.
(…) But when he suddenly came to in the middle of the night, he could not control himself. Who can tell what distances he covered on his way back? Who knows what phantoms he battled? And now that he was at home with his dear ones, he felt compelled to share his overwhelming joy, a joy of return and rebirth. (p. 285)
We’ve been told by Kundera that life has no weight, since it can only be lived once, that no matter what choices man makes, it makes no difference in the end, as there is no chance to take both paths to compare. Yet here he has Karenin, a dog, feel an "overwhelming joy, a joy of return and rebirth."
Is it a statement about man’s place on earth, his huge ego that places himself at the top of heap? He does go into this further, bringing up the question of man’s creation of God. Maybe it is a statement of hope, that in the simplicity of being one with nature, driven by instinct, there is the possibility of weight given to life; that in fact, by man’s complication of thought processes we have taken that meaning away.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology