My land lady in Villa Obregon was good enough to let me store my personal belongings at my rented place while I was in The States.
I merely needed to pack things up and set them aside.
When I drove down last year, most of my property fit in four plastic containers in the back of my truck. One was dedicated to Jiggs's dog paraphernalia.
That container and his large feeding station came over from the beach house.
While setting things aside in April, I decided I would get rid of anything I would not need when I returned in November.
Quite a few things went out. And the contents of the dog box should have. I was going to donate it all to the local neuter clinic and adoption center.
I put it all beside the door to give to my land lady. But when it came time to pass it over to her, I simply could not do it. His dog dishes. Collar. Leash. Toys. I was not ready to part with them -- not yet.
When his wife died, Theodore Roosevelt immediately gave away anything that would remind him of her.
I am not that type of guy.
But my nature is not sentimental. I surprised myself that I was still holding on to items I have never bothered to look at since he died.
I think I know why I did. When I returned to the Salem house, I found myself thinking a lot about Jiggs. After all. he lived in that house for twelve years. It was his back yard. His couch. His bedroom.
And those memories are still alive around here.
But each day they fade. As they should.
By the time, I return to Melaque, I suspect I will be ready to turn over Jiggs's things to people who could still use them.
And that is the best memory.
