Baby Binx
I was 20 when I met you in the parking lot of a Fred Meyer. The boys told me you had fleas and I scooped you up and put you into Chris’ Volkswagon and took you right to the pet store to get that sorted. Over the next few months you became one of the boys, getting thrown off the bed only to jump back on for more, putting up with house parties and whatever randoms we collected from Government camp. I was constantly worried about you getting out or getting stepped on or who knows what but everybody loved you. Everybody.Â
When it was time to move back to the east coast, you came with us. You really never had a choice in the matter. You saw the pacific ocean, Big Sur, almost got attacked by a Dutch Shepard, saw the waves in San Diego, a small weed farm, a corner suite at the Palms in Vegas, the hottest apartment I think we’ve ever experienced in Kansas City MI, the Atlantic Ocean and the Outer Banks and actual children for the first and few times, a pool house on long island and eventually Brooklyn.
You had several sisters and put up with them all like a true big brother. You survived Chris’s antics for several months without me while I recollected back in PA and moved with me 4 times after that. You ate my pretzels and demanded treats in the morning. You hugged me and kneaded mine and more than a few others shoulders. You sat on my lap during therapy sessions with Hank. You sat on my chest and judged me intensely after one night stands while demanding head scratches.Â
I have never spent more time with a living creature in my life. As it turns out, as romantic as his namesake was at the time I chose it or even throughout his life, when the time came I didn’t want him to turn into a 15 year old boy from the 1600s. I just wanted him to stay my 16 year old man and forever Baby Binx.Â
( side note: I finished writing this while listening to Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet and yes it was the balcony scene and I am a nerd….if you ever met Binx you’ll understand.)