I bought 2 yards of orange fabric the day before yesterday. I was thinking of going as Velma for Halloween. Scooby was already in the hospital for 4 days then. I kid and tell my friend “I’m doing this because I don’t know if I still have next halloween.” — I was right, only, I didn’t have this Halloween too.
I never understood why it was necessary to put them to “sleep” — I always thought that nature had its own way of freeing us when we need to move on. Those last few moments though, we knew we had to let him go. In hushed tones my brother and I held his face and said our goodbyes. We even tried to remember something funny about him. Like that time he turned “dalmatian” because he was allergic to his food and started losing hair leaving bald patches, making him look like a brown dalmatian.
“He’ll be going to sleep now” said the Doctor.
So we said “Good night Scooby.”
I’ve often wondered where they go – the ones we love, when they are gone. We’re never really sure. But I like to think that they hide in secret places. They take residence in the corners of our lips when we laugh as we try to remember something funny, on fingertips when we go through the daily work.
I took up running because of Scooby. I’m chicken when trying out new things but he needed the exercise and so did I. I’m not really sure where he is now but I know where he’ll stay. He’s there somewhere in my stride when I make it to the morning run. He’s there in the tiny amount of courage I need to get past being chicken.