Sometimes all there is to do is say goodbye.

I'm going to preface this by saying that I'm usually not one to post a blog entry centered around the death of a pet. Yes, pets are nice, and they tend to almost take on human roles in some of our lives as they more or less become like friends/family members. However, a blog done by someone else saying "Oh, our dog Fluffy died, he was such a good pet, he will be missed, here's some pics of the cute little bastard, etc..." would just bore me to tears and I wouldn't want to subject other people to this. However, the death of this particular animal, and the circumstances surrounding the last time I saw him did, however, give me an epiphany of sorts, so I'd like to share it with you.

The last time I visited my home town, which is a small town in Central PA, I saw my stepfather Brad's dog for the last time. The dog's name was Dewey. He lasted for 14 years and he was there since I was about 13 or 14, so I basically grew up with Dewey during the most tumultuous period of my life. This particular weekend, Brad was having a picnic at his place for family and friends. Dewey was kept upstairs in the bedroom for his own safety. He was very old and rickety at this point and I guess Brad was trying to negate the possibility of him getting into food, which would be hard on his body at this point, and also the possibility of having someone's kid's trying to tackle him or play rough with him. Still, I was a little upset that Dewey wasn't chained up outside so he could be a part of the picnic. I went up to Brad's room to visit him twice. The first time, I went up with my two brothers. Dewey's health had been steadily deteriorating during the past year. Walking and moving around seemed difficult for him, and he had cataracts in his eyes at this point (he had also been deaf for quite some time). I knew it would be the last time I would ever see him, there was no doubt in my mind.

I went back up to see him later on that evening, this time alone. I sat down with him, petted him for a while, and tried to think of something appropriate to say, though I knew he wouldn't be able to hear the words. It then occurred to me that I really didn't have to say anything. The chapter of my life containing Dewey would be gone after this day and there was nothing I could do about that. I had a lot of good moments with Dewey, and he really was an exceptional dog. He was bright, friendly, though sometimes moody (he'd let you know if he didn't feel like being petted), and he had a very endearing mischievous streak and would always get into whatever food he could. Supposedly he had a buddy system worked out with our other dog, Wooty, to get around the latches placed on the lower cabinets in the kitchen. One of them would prop a cabinet door open till it would hit the latch that was placed on them, while the other would paw at the latching device until they managed to pop the door open.

There was one summer a few years ago that I got into some trouble and had to go to jail for a few months. I had been staying with my mother and Brad up until this point, and mom told me that while I was in jail Dewey would still go and sit outside my room every morning for quite some time, waiting for me to come out.

So, with these memories in mind, I petted him one last time, gave him a hug, and stood up to exit the room. I looked at him one last time, and he looked right back at me, almost seeming to understand that this would be our last moment together. I opened the door, said "Goodbye Dewey" and left. That was really all I could do. Nothing I could do or say could enhance or take away any of the good memories I had with him, and there certainly wasn't anything I could do to give Dewey more time here with us. All things come to an end, and this was the end for my experience with Dewey.

Looking back on my life, there's been times I wish I could have said a better goodbye to friends who I knew I would never see again, but what would this really do for me? The experiences have already been had, the moments passed by, and trying to latch onto things past, however joyful they may have been, is not something I like to make a recurring theme in my life. I'd like to think that there will always be new experiences to be had, and new people in my life to enjoy them with. Some friends I will always remain in contact with. Our souls (if you want to call it that) are connected so deeply that the friendship with them just never gets stale or outlasts itself, and the 20 minutes or so it takes to call them and catch up is always more than a worthwhile expenditure of time. I can count on two fingers who those people are for me, and I couldn't be happier that I've found two guys who I know will always be a part of my life. For everyone else, there gets to be a point where my time with them is over and I know it, and when that time comes, all there is to do is say good bye.