Dedication to Values of Pain

This book is dedicated to my dog, Scooby Doo.
If that seems unusual, allow me to explain. I buried my friend today. He has been dying for a few weeks now, the good days growing ever less frequent, the bad days less tolerable. He was thirteen or fourteen - nobody rightly knows as he was a shelter rescue. He has been part of our family for twelve years, and you could not ever ask for a better dog or a more loyal, loving companion.
The last couple of years I have worked mostly from the couch where I'm sitting now, writing this dedication. Aside from a few classes a week at the community college, most of my students reside inside the computer. So I have been able to be here with Scooby as he slowly exited this world, bit by bit. He did not suffer much and I was able to fill his last weeks with fun, adventure, tasty snacks and companionship.
Dogs are not able to choose the extent to which they will suffer, or the causes for which they might suffer. They derive meaning, so far as we are able to guess, just from their relationships. When Scooby's last good days seemed to be behind him - Thursday, two days ago, he ate some raw meat from my hand and perked up for a couple of hours - we took him to the vet and pet him, the whole family, while an overdose of anesthesia took his final breath. The last thing he saw was everyone who loved him crying and smiling, making contact.
All the time I have been gamely tapping away at these keys, trying to discover and explore and explain something about pain and what it means to people, I have known this day was looming. And looming ever faster, at that. I can only hope some of that love and pain and yes, even hope, is somewhere between these pages.
Goodbye, Scoobs. You were a good friend.