More Thoughts...

I thought about writing this last night, and it's kind of ironic how I come across different thoughts.

First, when I was in my teen years, I thought I had everything figured out.

This was life, this was the way it was going to be, and that was it.

Then I got older, and things changed, and life changed.

And now, everything is changing.

When I turned 21, a good friend of mine bought me a shot and said: "Just remember this day. After this, the years will pass like days."

And now, I'm 28, and I realize he was right.

I still remember my 21st birthday, it was fun. I was drunk, and it was fun.

But he was right, it feels like the years just flew by.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, the 14 year old me would kick the shit out of the 28 year old me.

I've traded in lots of things I thought I held dear, to either better myself or better my life.

When I was 14, at work, if my boss told me to go and do something, and had even the slightest hint of anything resembling talking down to me.

I just quit. That was it.

Now, the 28 year old me, just does it. And doesn't complain. I just deal with it. I realize now how important the things are that didn't seem important when I was 14.

So last night I bought "Marley and Me" for The Girlfriend.

We watched it late when she got home from work.

And Although I agreed overall with the message, it still made me realize.

I got choked up at the end...

And spoiler alert, I'm going to discuss some things of this movie, if you don't want to see it, stop reading now.

I like dogs. I've got a dog. The Girlfriend has a dog.

They are fun.

My dog means a lot to me.

I got my dog when I broke up with my last serious girlfriend.

We lived together. Her name was Jenny.

One day I woke up and realized I didn't feel the way I felt about her in the beginning. Actually, I woke up and realized I didn't feel anything.

So I decided to buy a house, and move.

I got the dog.

She had to move back home, and I could keep the dog.

I got her the dog, because while we both wanted one, she wanted one more than I did.

So it was technically her dog.

But six months after living here, Jenny came over, and said she wanted the dog back.

I had to sit her down and tell her that every few months, she can't move the dog around.

A dog, like a kid, or any human being, needs some sort of stability. And while a dog is much more able to handle moving than a kid, it still doesn't make it right.

So I told her that if she took the dog, it was hers, she couldn't come back here in three months and give her back. And then six months after that come and get her again.

It wouldn't be right to treat the dog like that.

She decided not to take the dog.

But we decided she can come over whenever she wanted to visit. Take her for walks, play with her, whatever she wants.

Jenny never came back after that, and I'm pretty sure my dog has forgotten about Jenny.

But when I bought my house, it was the first time I was living alone. I had always lived with someone.

So I was scared.

I didn't want to be alone.

And my dog made it so that I was never really alone.

I lived alone in my house for three years.

During those three years, my dog became a very meaningful part of my family.

She was there to comfort me when I was sad or depressed.

She was there at the front door to welcome me home.

She was there to keep me company while I watched TV, or worked in the garage.

She was there to lay next to me while I slept.

And she was there to protect me from anything that might happen to me.

She became someone I could talk to, who all she asked for was a scratch behind the ear, or a pat on the head in return.

Someone once said: "We give dogs any space and any love we can spare. Dogs give us everything."

I read that a long time ago, and I sort of laughed at it.

I'm one of those people that are happy that humans are the top of the food chain, and I flaunt it.

I'm one of those people with a huge ego, and I make it known.

I think I'm the best of the best, any no one will ever be able to be better than me.

So how could anything, including an animal, be so caring? Loving? Non-judgemental?

Then you get to know your pets...

My dog is big. She's a one hundred pound German Shepherd.

Her heart has to be atleast three times that size.

So, I watched this movie...

And it sort of made me deal with my dog's own mortality.

I realize I talk of mortality quite a bit, I don't know why that is... I think it's because it's so final...

You don't know when it's going to happen, so you just wait...

The day I have to put my dog down, will be very sad for me, I don't know if I'll cry or how exactly I'll feel...

But I'll know I'll miss her, and I will have lost the greatest friend I ever had.

I've had dogs before this dog. When I was a kid.

The first dog, well, that was more of my step-mom's dog. They were great friends. That dog loved her no matter what.

He didn't really care about the rest of us.

We were just there to feed him.

The second dog, she really didn't care about much of anything...

As long as she could run around every once in awhile, and sit by the window to see people going by...

Her and I, we were more like aquaintances. We live in the same place, we played every now and again...

But she was her own dog.

I admire her for that. She didn't really belong to anyone, she did what she did, when she wanted to do it, consequences be damned.

And she was kind of dumb.

Now, the current dog... She's a good pup. I call her pup, but she's five years old. I think she'll always be my pup.

She's the first dog that knows me, without me having to say anything.

She knows when I'm sad, or happy, or any other emotion.

And when you're sad, she comes over, and she nudges your hand with her nose, as if to say: "Hey, don't worry about it, just pet me, and we'll get over it together."

And it always makes me feel better.

She's a good dog.

After I got to thinking about my dog last night, I had another profound realization.

I say profound because of how I came to think about it...

I know it's been said before, but it really made me realize it.

Life isn't buying houses and cars.

Life isn't the huge moments in your existance.

Life is all the same things, that come together, and make you realize you've got something special.

Let me explain this...

I remember my first car. It was a big piece of shit. But I loved it.

I'll never forget it.

But what I remember more, is where that car took me.

Physically and emotionally.

I realized how complex machines can let someone down, and when my truck breaks, I still feel very let down.

I remember the good times my friends and I had in that car... Or the parties we took that car too...

That sort of thing.

I remember the day I bought my house.

But what I cherish more, is the moments I've had in this house.

Life is a collection of small moments, both good and bad, that you cherish.

For me, that's a profound realization...

Every now and again, since I was a teenager, I've been in a certain event or situation... And I thought to myself, "I hope I can remember this for the rest of my life."

Then you get older, and you might forget the airline you and your friends took to Cancun... But you remember being drunk and laying on the beach, and staring at the stars...

Everyone has to ask themselves, if they could change anything, what would it be?

I don't know if I'd change everything in my life...

My life isn't all fun all the time...

I've got bills, I've got funerals, I've got stuff to fix...

And most of the time, I don't have enough money to do much of anything...

But I don't think I'd trade even the bad moments for good ones...

And as I sit here and think about it...

I'm thinking about all the things I've done in my life...

That makes me feel pretty good...

Even the bad things that happened to me, have a flipside, they have something good that happened to think about with them...

I can only hope, that in the future, I can remember some of the small events that make me smile or laugh...