Saying goodbye is never easy; whether you know the day is coming up or if it is unexpected and the goodbye is permanent. Two weeks ago I was forced to say farewell to my old dog. Bumper came to me at seven weeks of age and departed at almost 17—a damn good run for a little mongrel dog. For years I opined that when she no longer had an interest in food, her days were numbered—and those days came.

The kind folks at Airport Veterinary Clinic and Dr. Kelly Hauesler had been looking after her for years and they were with us at the end. Bumper’s final minutes were peaceful and painless and both the dog and I knew it was time. Bumper was well traveled and never met a person she didn’t like—although she wasn’t too sure about other animals. She will be missed by me and her other human friends.

My second goodbye will come a week from today when Breanne Boland goes off to live her life. We knew when Breanne came to us she would leave and I, for one, would have it no other way. At 21, she has not yet begun her life and I envy her all she will see, do, feel, think and experience in the years to come. Through the magic of modern communication, her byline will still be seen from time to time, although she will be in Seattle, Wash. and no longer dashing out to snap a photo or visit the Punchline.

It took a little time for me to get to know her, but I can honestly say she has become a friend, which is odd considering I’m older than her mother. In fact I told her mother it was damn nice of her to give birth for me, because in many ways, Breanne and I are much alike, and I would be proud to have her as my daughter. Over the past eight months, Breanne has succeeded in jerking me out of my ordinary routines, asking me to go with her to places I might not go on my own, filling me on the phenomena of letterboxing and geo-caching and generally being my guide to what’s up with young people.

It’s vital to my self-esteem for you to know she asked me to join her in going someplace first—as I would never have thought one so young would want to hang out with ancient me. After the first time, it was easy for both of us because we have fun on our outings, discovered common ground, built trust, discussed, rationalized, and did all manner of things people do when getting to know one another.

Like me, she has an interest in movies and books and we have seen hours of film, swapped our favorite books, taken side trips to nowhere and somewhere and in general had a grand time all the while devising plans to save the world and help humanity. Her mind is wonderfully wacky, flexible, creative and sharp. She listens and she learns. Not much gets by her. A pleasure to talk with, even about the mundane things in life. For such a young one, she is amazingly centered and one tends to forget she is young.

She has worked in our office during the week and written stories for additional income in her off hours. Breanne has contributed some great stories, run our office as well as a bunch of unruly people would allow her to and been a team player for the team from left field. We have inducted her into the clique of Mac users and she is a convert—rather like acknowledging Apple as your higher power—but without the guilt and 11 other steps.

As much as I’m going to miss her, I’m a tad envious as she begins the adventure of her life—something I did 30 years ago. She will find a different world than I did and in 30 years, someone else will discover a still different world, yet the desire to navigate, investigate, postulate, promulgate and often regurgitate is what keeps us alive and lively. Off with you Breanne Boland. Knock ‘em dead kid.

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