This weekend I decided to come home. I had the feeling that I needed to come home and see my family. I took the train down to good ol’ Kannapolis, where my family has been living for a few years. When I get off the train I feel the air change and it just feels right to be home. I’ve learned to appreciate the town’s antiquity and southern charm. The last time I was at home I was packing up and had my sights on getting back to work. My mind was elsewhere, but now I am here and eager to enjoy what’s around me.

It was a short time here but I learned a lot. It wasn’t from the mall I shopped at or the school I visited, but it was from my ailing dog, Kirby. He was doing okay last time I saw him, but he was coughing a lot and his poop were fifty shades of nastiness. I can tell he wasn’t doing well before I left, but I didn’t know he’d get this bad. He seemed to not be able to stand for long periods of time from his arthritis, He had weight on him, yet I could still feel his old bones, and he never really listens when I call him.

I was walking him this Saturday, and it was a slow, contemplative walk. We walked and stopped then walked some more and stopped for breathers. I was patient with him and just looked out at the road ahead of us. I’d encouraged him to keep moving forward, but he just looked at me, smiling. We continued the morning walk and finally halfway up the hill, he pooped. It was a normal poop, which was surprising. It was a lot too I was so happy for him. I felt that he let a lot of weight off his shoulders or in this case his large intestine. We walked back home and everyone was elated to hear the good news.

We got him some soft food and some pumpkin to help him go more. He was still this old dog and I could see his weariness. I was worried about him. Later at night, my dog and I took another walk. It was dark and the street lights dimly lit the asphalt. We could hear cars go by on the main street nearby, and people chitchatting at a garage sale. He paused a lot, as if to be pensive. He would stare into the dark woods on our left and I just looked up at the star lit sky. In those placid moments I realized that this might be the last time I walked him. It dawned on me even more, when out of nowhere he decided to just sit in the middle of the road. We sat there for what felt like a lifetime, and I saw his life and mine intertwined. I thought about all that we’ve gone through together. No matter what happened in the future, we were connected by the memories we made with each other. I will always cherish him in my soul.

Later my dad came driving down the street to see where we went. It turned out that my cellphone was on airplane mode and he had been calling me this whole time. He told me “hurry up its night out” so me and Kirby finally got up off the ground and headed toward our quaint house.

I realized something about life that night. My dog showed me how to live life. When you’re young, you have lots of energy. You chase everything in sight and you want to discover the world. As you get older, you realize things and you’re ready to settle down. You get into the motions and you do your best to contribute to the world. Then you get older and live in the in-between stage, where it will seem like the world is ending, so you try to live out your last wishes. Then the last stage is where you fade off into infinity. My dog lived through all these stages and is still chugging along. He made me think, when you get to that old age the best thing to do is to spread your wisdom to all those around you. That’s what it seemed like he was doing to me that Saturday night.