There's a full-grown, smiling, happy dog in Eric's house now... a dog.
And that sure is something different...
But... it's something familiar too. And it's something good... something pleasant; different, but familiar... Somehow everything's stayed familiar. Change must come, things are changing; but somehow things have stayed somewhat the same.
Eric is finally starting to break away... away from the tumors (bodily and people-shaped), away from the physical structure, and away from the memories that have haunted him and held him back for so long. Yet before he steps out of the House door forever and puts what were once his keys in the hands of someone else, there's always time for one more look back.
Yes... back...
A final look back...
Back at how a procession of careless; vermin-like, blood-sucking Realtors colorfully led him to take control... and attempt to make his house sell for the price he wanted... Back at how multiple mal practicing Neurologists and other medical "Gods" have maybe... possibly, led to a worthwhile treatment path that might help. Back at how his strained relationship with his Father led to a different kind of family. Back at how his loudly howling Kitchi and playful, glaring Ziggy led to Freud.
And back at how the sulky, sexy, overall dysfunctional men in his life led to loved and missed Mitch... long loved, long missed Mitch.
And how Mitch has led to...
Well... who knows?
So maybe, just maybe...
Maybe we're moving on... it can take forever, but things do change; puppies become dogs... houses sell, friends come and go; and people, people move on.
People move on...
So Eric's steps aren't so unsteady anymore... and the puppy - no... the dog, is at his side.
And the Puppy Ain't a Puppy No More completes the story of getting back up and moving on after being hit by everything modern American life can throw.
Moving on...
Getting up and moving on...