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“There are no bad dogs, Bobby, just bad people. They just need love.”
My purpose, my whole life, had been to love him and be with him, to make him happy.
Because failure isn’t an option if success is just a matter of more effort.
I had to learn a lot of important skills and lessons, so that when the time came I could rescue Ethan, not from the pond but from the sinking despair of his own life.
The job of a good dog was ultimately to be with them, remaining by their sides no matter what course their lives might take.
As for me: I loyally remained right where I was, remembering the very first time I had ever seen the boy and then just now, the very last time—and all the times in between. The deep aching grief I knew I would feel would come soon enough, but at that moment mostly what I felt was peace, secure in the knowledge that by living my life the way I had, everything had come down to this moment. I had fulfilled my purpose.
