The meaning of “friendship” is highly personal, and the concept of “best friends” is pretty fluid too. For example, I’ve had a lunchtime friendship with one of my best friends from college for over 20 years, ever since she married a very nice man with whom I have absolutely nothing in common. Another “best” friend was transferred to Germany right after grad school and moved around Europe for a good 20 years before finally settling in Houston. We see each other a couple times a year for dinner and discuss our respective families and mutual friends. I count them both as best friends even though our relationships are centered around mealtime conversations as opposed to hiking through the Andes together.
There are other levels of friendship. At another level entirely are my “gym friends” whom I have never seen in long pants and high school friends who get Christmas cads but whom I have not seen in person in decades. I have professional friends that I meet at Conventions and, when I was single, I had bar friends that I never saw in the daylight. When I call these folks “friends” this just means that we have, or had, something in common at some point. Realistically, though, these people are probably not “friends” but just nice people with whom I am “friendly,” although that sounds pretty cold.
I think we can all agree that some common interest defines a friendship, but what breaks a friendship? In other words, when does an old friend become an ex-friend?
Ex-friends are made when something fundamental changes the dynamic of the friendship: someone quits a job, moves away, marries or just changes. I’ve had a friendship end because money lent was not repaid and another friendship terminate because of an inexplicable admiration for Sarah Palin. These things happen; friendships often wither away over time. As adults we accept it and move on. But I certainly never thought I would make a conscious and immediate decision to turn an old friend into a ex-friend. But there are times when a relationship reaches a tipping point from which there is no return.
This happened recently when my partner and I went to visit some close, long-time friends in California. First we complimented them on the amazing renovation of their old house, and then asked to see Mollie and Jake, their beautiful yellow Labs. Sadly, we were told that both dogs had been “put down.” We were stunned; the dogs were not puppies, but they were certainly not old. Was there a terrible accident, we asked; were they sick?
The truth was more horrible. After months of renovation, when their showplace of a house was finally completed, our friends could not bear to have their large, slothful pets drooling on the imported wood floors or shedding on the Italian leather furniture. They decided to give the dogs away, but came to the conclusion that no one could “love them as much as we do” so they had them euthanized instead.
My partner and I could not have been more stunned if we were told they had drowned their elderly parents, or put their kids up for adoption. We have always regarded our pets as members of the family and we have had many cats and dogs in our time together; while we certainly know our pets are not our “children” we love our pets a lot — as much as (if not more) than some family members, if the truth be told.
I don’t quite remember what came next, but I believe it started with my asking, more forcefully than I intended, ”What kind of people are you?” It went downhill from there. During an awkward silence I offered a clearly manufactured excuse, and we left. We’ve not heard from these people since, and that’s just fine with us. A true friend is a precious gift, and precious gifts are not discarded (or destroyed) lightly. Someone who would destroy Man’s Best Friend is not a friend worth keeping.