When I was a teenager, the neighbors’ dachshund came to visit every day. Snoopy treated our place as if it was home, and he would often stay with us overnight.
He especially liked it when I would scratch him under the chin, then behind his ears, under the collar, down his spine, under his front legs, etc. I could make him go to sleep by doing this routine, and I loved it when he would start snoring and dreaming.
Eventually I went to university and moved away. Years later, I visited Snoopy’s family. He recognized me immediately, and we had a joyous reunion. But he was old and arthritic. His poor body was creaky and probably in pain. His face was white.
He lay on my lap, like old times. Then I started our little scratching routine, which took several minutes. Suddenly, Snoopy let out an uneartlhy sound which startled everyone in the room.
Had it come from a human it could not have been more eloquent. It said: “I remember you! I missed you all these years! You understand me! I used to be young, and now I’m old. Don’t leave me!”
But I had to leave. It was the last time I ever saw him.
If only I could pet him now, it would be I who told him: “I remember you! I missed you all these years! You understand me! I used to be young, and now I’m old. Don’t leave me!”