Slipping through my fingers

I stopped cleaning the right-side rear window in November of 2005. Maybe something in me started to horde what remained left of our life together, maybe I just got lazy. It was in that November that I took Jackson to Schiller Park for a romp with all the other dogs. It was chilly and overcast, typical for this time of year but Jackson looked handsome as he posed in front of the statue of Frederich Schiller. The walk was nondescript and much like our many other forays into this wonderful park a mere stone's throw from from my house. I tried to ignore how difficult it was for Jackson to climb into the back seat. Hip problems were common for these big dogs and I just didn't want to face the truth that he might be showing the first signs of failing. Ignoring the problem didn't work for when it was time to go home the poor old guy needed my assistance to get into his usual spot in the back seat of the Mercedes. I fretted about this on the short drive back home but I didn't know then that this would be the last time that I took him to the park. The last time that he would ever ride with me in the car for that matter.

All this came back to me when I decided to sell that old Benz a couple of months ago. It had served me faithfully for nearly six years and made that wonderful cross-country trip three years ago without complaint or mishap. But it was getting old and it was time to get something newer. No matter how attached I was to the car I had to let go of it so I could move on, after all it was just a thing. And when it came time to sell I remembered that I hadn't cleaned Jackson's nose prints off of the rear window. I never got around to it and after awhile I didn't want to anyway. But it did get sold and I watched as the Benz drove away for the last time, it's new owner completely oblivious to the treasure that he would soon wipe away with Windex.