Mitch: (on the phone) Oh, yeah, I’ll go back to Thailand some day. But I’d want to stay a few weeks, and that’s hard on Rosie. I’ll have to wait ’til she’s ‘gone’ before I go again. Yeah, I know…she’s nine-and-a-half. Okay, talk to you later. (Hangs up, turns around, Rosie is standing there)
Rosie: Gone where?
Mitch: What?
Rosie: Where?
Mitch: What?
Rosie: Will you stop!? You said you were going to wait ’til I’m gone. Gone where?
Mitch: Ahhhhh–
Rosie: Too late! You were going to lie, weren’t you?
Mitch: I would never lie to you.
Rosie: So where am I going?
Mitch: We’ve talked about this. When you get really, really old, I’ll take you to the vet, and she’ll give you a shot that makes you young again. Then, you’ll be taken to the Upper Peninsula, where you get to live with all the dog friends you used to know.
Rosie: Like Zoe?
Mitch: Like Zoe. She’s been there since 2006.
Rosie: Is my mom there?
Mitch: I’m sure she’s there, by now. Some day, you’ll have a lot of family to catch up with.
Rosie: But I’m not old!
Mitch: Exactly, which is why I’m not rushing off to Thailand, and you’re not rushing off to the U.P.
Rosie: And you’ll be there, too, right?
Mitch: Not right away. I’ll have things I need to do here, first.
Rosie: So how’s that going to work? Why aren’t you coming up there with me? It kinda sucked when you were in Thailand.
Mitch: Come on! Lisa took very good care of you!
Rosie: I know, but she doesn’t smell like you. She smells like flowers, spices and Jerky Treats.
Mitch: What do I smell like?
Rosie: Guilt, desperation and shame.
Mitch: That’s…that’s nice.
Rosie: It’s an acquired taste. But still, I like having you around.
Mitch: I don’t know why we’re talking about this–it’s years down the road.
Rosie: But when the time comes, and you do come up, how are you going to find me?
Mitch: Oh, I’ll find you. One day, you’ll be out playing with your dog friends, and you’ll hear me call your name.
Rosie: Well…okay…don’t wait too long.
Mitch: I won’t, sweetie.
Rosie: Now what’s the matter?
Mitch: Nothing. My eyes. Must be allergies.
Rosie: Well use a tissue, for Pete’s sake.
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