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Goodbye, Old Friend.

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Athens, early morning. A worried boy plaintively calls out into the woods.

Tommy: "Wags! Wags!"

Rushes in from the yard

Tommy: "Mom! Have you seen Wags? He wasn't waiting by the door for breakfast this morning, and Wags never misses a meal."

Mom: "Sit down, Tommy. I have something to tell you."

Tommy: "What is it, Mom? Oh no! Is something wrong with Wags?"

Mom: "Uh, no sweetie. The thing is, Wags isn't here. He went to live with Aunt Marcie at her farm in the mountains."

Tommy: "But, who is Aunt Marcie? And why did Wags have to leave?"

Mom: "Well Tommy, the farm was the best place for Wags. It's crowded here in Athens. There are lots of people moving around, making loud noises. It scares and confuses him."

Tommy: "Well, he was getting a little older. . ."

Mom: "He was honey. . .Is! He is getting a little old. But the farm will be a great place for him. He was moving so much more slowly. And his temperament was just getting worse and worse. So surly. Always snapping for no reason. I think it was all just too much stress for the old boy."

Tommy: "Like that time my friends and I were dancing and he went crazy?"

Mom: "That's right buddy. He can't see a damned thing, and that can be very scary for an old dog."

Tommy: "I guess you're right Mom. I mean, I'll miss him, but I just want Wags to be happy."

Mom: "Me too, honey. Me too. But now he's in a better place. A place where he can eat ice cream and chase squirrels and lick his testicles all day long. He's at peace."

We'll miss you, Wags. Run free, boy. Run free.