A 2008 Volkswagen Rabbit.
You were also known as ‘Conejo’ but more affectionately nicknamed ‘Bun-Bun’ by a friend with a penchant for naming. You hopped into my life at a dealership in Bentonville, Arkansas (of all places). It was 4th of July weekend in 2009. You were a mere year old, with about 20K miles of life experience. You didn’t feel a need to show off with all bells-and-whistles of the time. Instead, you focused on the basics, and excelled at them. You were reliable, comfortable, fun, and my first German friend.
We quickly got to know each other during the 800-mile drive home. You were the quiet, unassuming type, and I know many people underestimated you. Little did I know you would be with me and at my beck-and-call for 14+ years and see me through so many ups and downs of life. Whether it was valiantly navigating rutted, washboard, or muddy roads for me as I explored perhaps too-far reaches of wilderness. You took on the challenge with aplomb, despite only having five inches of ground clearance and 170 horsepower.
You devotedly handled thousands of days and miles of the mundanity that is commuting to work, the gym, and running errands.
Despite your size, you were able to carry and transport so many things—punching well above your weight in this regard. Not only did you handle the 20+ round trips moving my belongings to a new house across town but also a completely packed cabin of IKEA furniture from Phoenix. Let’s also not forget the far-too-many 8-foot-long 2x6s of lumber for a big home project, which sadly injured your windshield. Just like a dog, you were quick to forgive and move on as if it never happened.
Below: Chaco and Joey guarding piles of clothes on the way to our new house
Speaking of understanding and forgiveness, you overlooked my not always keeping you clean or waiting a little too long for your oil changes. I grew to trust that you’d hang in there until it was more convenient for me to take you in to get pampered. After I injured you by backing into the big curb, we sought help and put you back together. You dusted yourself off and recovered with class, and we marched on with our never-ending adventures together.
Remember the time a gallon of white paint fell over and spilled into a messy pool on your nearly pristine black floorboard. It was nearly 100 degrees out. I needed a few minutes to think through how in the world I was going to get you cleaned up. And, as you know, things got a whole lot messier before we started feeling like there was hope.
Bun-Bun, you were with me on the many dozens of trips to visit family out at the ‘ranch.’ I’m sure you dreaded all those dirt roads, the never-ending dust, and especially my family’s menagerie of dogs peeing on your fancy, yet rugged, shoes. I hope you appreciated my dad always clearing a spot in the carport for you to rest your tired soul during my visits.
Thank you for transporting me safely to visit friends and family in the hospital, to my grandparents’ funerals, and when my dear Chaco passed in my arms on the way to the emergency vet. I won’t forget the time you helped me save my friends’ dog’s life when he had a life-threatening condition and needed emergency medical attention while his humans were out of town. As you know, we encountered plenty of obstacles along the way, but we did it! Our beloved canine friend, Pepper, survived, and to this day continues living his best life.
Below: Pepper post-surgery (guarding Bun-Bun) and taking in the fall color.
As a new friend enters my life, know that I won’t forget you and all you did for me. I don’t know what the future holds for you, but I’d like to think you can enjoy a long, relaxing retirement. You sure have earned it! Knowing you, though, I bet you’ve got some more adventures and day-to-day work left in you.
Thank you for being a friend!
コメント