The Inflection Point

The night we got you, I was playing badminton in the yard. Mom and Alexis went to pick you up, but I was too anxious. Tomorrow was my first day of middle school. I was 10 years old.

I often marked the years with you because of that inaugural day. You were there everyday after middle school, full of energy and ready to run outside as soon as I got home. By 4 years old, I had started high school. A little less time for us to hang out, but I always knew you were around.

The years got spotty for awhile. I went off to college, you stayed back with Alexis and the fam, helping them count the years just as you had for me. I didn’t visit too much, but that didn’t bother you. I was always greeted as if I was the most important person in the world, and we hadn’t missed a day.

Eventually there were no more school years to mark. After graduation, it became difficult to remember just how old you were. I look back now, at where I was when we first got you, and where our family was at that time. You helped us through all the bad times; we got through it all with you. I never thought I’d become so attached to a dog, because you see Abby, I wanted a bigger dog, but Alexis and Dad did not. I’m glad it all worked out.

It’s hard saying goodbye to a dog. In some ways, it feels like nobody understood you better. Maybe, just maybe, one of your last thoughts were of me as a 10 year old, coming home that first night. You waited until we were all home for Christmas, together one more time. Look at how far we’ve all come. Thanks for all memories, Abby.

– CC