thought of the day.340

Just wanted to share something a buddy of mine wrote about his dog, Scout. Strange, but I felt I was actually a better person for simply having read it. By the way, Goetz designs as well as he writes.

If you've got a minute, a toast to a friend...

Almost 16 years ago, in the spring of 1994, I decided it was a good
time to get a dog. I had just bought my first house and was starting
to admit to myself that among the reasons I had bought the house on
Coolair Drive was to have a place to keep my dog. The only thing
missing was a dog. So on a sunny afternoon in May, I aimed my car in
the direction of the Animal Adoption Center on Garland Road and set
out to find that dog. That's where I met my gal Scout.

Instantly, and for the next 15-odd years of my life, that sweet
patchwork quilt of a dog became the most loyal friend I have ever
known. Whether we were claiming the Pedernales River for a day -- not
a soul in sight for miles, except for an occasional herd of cattle
taking a drink from the river at sundown -- or hiking the trails of
Dinosaur Valley, Scout was with me literally every step of the way. We
took road trips, we camped, we hiked, we terrorized armadillos, we
chased jackrabbits and bobcats (Scout carried a "souvenir" on her ear
as the result of one particularly ill-fated but memorable encounter
with the latter), we drank beer on the patio, we crashed buddies'
bars, we made friends, we met girls, we mowed the lawn, we smoked
brisket, we stared at the stars in the back yard, we hosted parties
and we pissed off the neighbors. From the death of my father to the
birth of my daughter, Scout was a constant, comforting, irreplaceable
fixture in virtually every aspect of my life.

But Norbuck Park was the best. For 14 straight years, Norbuck was the
place where Scout and I would escape the world, if only for an hour or
so, but damn near every single day, rain or shine. A 40-acre oasis
comprised of trails and woods and cedar trees and pecan groves in the
middle of East Dallas, Norbuck was Heaven on Earth and the Greatest
Secret in Dallas. We'd run those trails every morning like a couple of
goofy giddy school kids, competing to see who could outsmart and
outrun the other and make it to the pecan grove on the north end
first. It was the place where we both spent some of the finest hours
of our lives. It was where our Wild Things were.

I had to put my dog Scout to sleep last week. She had become a ghost
of her old self over the past many months and finally let me know, in
no uncertain terms, that she had had enough. There's no doubt that
sentiment as sappy as this, spent on a dog no less, must seem entirely
silly to most, but for those of you who have been blessed to share
such a large portion of your life with a friend as steadfast and
virtuous as my dog Scout, you know exactly where I'm coming from.
Hell, that's what dogs do to us... they make us far sappier than we
ever plan on being. Scout was a damn good friend and a damn fine dog
-- as fine as they come -- and worthy of as dignified a salutation as
I could muster for all the joy she brought to me and those who knew her.

It's been about a year and a half since Scout was able to run the
Norbuck trails with me, but I will always remember our adventures
there like they happened yesterday -- especially on those crisp autumn
mornings when the sky was impossibly blue, the trees impossibly
brilliant and the promise of the day impossibly boundless. And I can
still hear the silent conversation that took place five thousand times
between she and me on those shady trails...

"Hey buddy, I'm going to run up this trail a little ways. You cool
with that?"

"That's cool, buddy. You run on up ahead. But don't stray too far."

"I won't. I'll be just a little ways ahead of you."

"I know you will. I'll see you soon, sweet girl."

~ Pierce Goetz