Tears for Opus

I've been snuffling all day about the death of Opus. Some of you may say, no, he's not dead, he just went to spend eternity asleep on the last page of "Good Night, Moon," which is how he's drawn in his final panel (which can only be viewed via a Humane Society web page.)

But he looks dead to me, with the added clues of the text, "Goodnight Opus and goodnight air. Goodnight noises everywhere."

When you say goodnight to air, that's pretty dead.

It was hard enough on me that he knew weeks ago his end was coming and he had to get to the place where he wanted to spend eternity, but didn't know where, and then through a series of misfortunes, ended up in a cell at an animal shelter with a dog that had never known a home. (What an allegory for life! Isn't our whole journey about getting to the place where we want to spend eternity, but we don't know where or how and end up in the wrong place?)

And then it was hard enough that when a trio of Tahitian beauties came calling, looking for a pet to adopt and take home to their island paradise, he stepped aside and let the dog go. (Another allegory. Redemption through sacrifice.)

I was more a fan of Bloom County and Outland than this latest revival of the strip, but hats off to Berkeley Breathed for wringing me out emotionally over a cartoon penguin. I haven't been able to snap out of it all day.