With a spark of adventures spirit and a good deal of pent up curiosity fueling my actions, I took the initiative to venture through my hometown today. It has been some six years since I last visited my old stomping grounds back in -----, and I am left simply amazed at how much has changed in my absence. I drove by my old house, now drastically renovated, payed a viset to town center and relived some of the oldest and dearest memories of my early childhood.

I found an old friend at the town creamery who I had honestly never expected to see again. I had stopped to get an ice cream cone and cherish the view at the beloved creamery, a place that my family and I would viset on none but the hottest days of summer. Memories both good and bad flooded back to me as I sat on a rickety old picnic table, frantically trying to eat my melting ice-cream and hopelessly dripping vanilla for my efforts. A happy flock of baby goats pranced carelessly to my left, being hand fed by squealing children who were in turn being supervised by a troope of watchful mothers. Much to my amazement, after I had done all I could for my failing ice cream, I looked up to behold a ragged, shaved and limping old border collie. It took me a moment to recognize the animal before me but when I did I almost cried. I remember, back in the day when I still came to the creamery with my family, there was a jumpy, flat-toothed sheepdog who used to fetch rocks for me. Due to the nature of the dog and my amazingly sharp sense of creativity, I had unofficially named her the “Rock Dog”. Go figure. The beast before me was what remained of that once agile and energetic spirit. She was sitting by my car in the creamery’s parking lot, and as silly as it sounds, I stopped to take the time to talk to the old sheepdog. I shared some memories of the times I used to watch that young dog running wildly through the adjacent farm fields, springing and dodging among the pumpkin patches like some wild thing. A scratch behind the ears was all that it took to keep my audience, and when we were done talking I bid the old pup goodbye, most likely for the last time.

It’s silly how we attach ourselves to certain times and places in our past... even something as superficial as a rock-eating border collie is able to bring up powerful memories and subsequently attached emotions. I feel unreasonably soppy right now while I write this letter, but on the other hand, I simply don’t care. I’m grateful for the chance to go re-live a small bit of my past, and even more so I am grateful for the chance to say one last goodbye to a childhood friend.