December 9, 2021
Circle of Life
With Matilda, the newcomer to our family, I’ve been driving her to a dog run where I pay $6/hour for parking just to see how adorable she is getting other dogs to play with her. Tilly’s unbridled spirit explodes when she can entice another dog to chase her. Her energy influences the whole park to where I’ve overheard effusive comments on what a wonderful dog she is.
And then there’s Abby. In the last year, she’s given up on hills. Now, our veteran’s back legs can no longer provide sufficient support while she’s doing #2. The first time it happened she fell into her poo. The look of fear when she was falling back is cemented in my memory. Afterward she was more disheartened than I was. Now we’re in the process of deciding how we can remedy this. Tried lifting her tail to keep balance but looks like it affects her concentration, which I can understand. Reflecting on how we used to walk for two hours to where we are now, AND where we are going makes me anxious to a level where I try to ignore the obvious aging process and pray she’ll be back to leaping onto benches.
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Swallows squeaked past the Orix Buffaloes in six cliffhanger games, the last one in 12 innings. Both teams went last to first and provided more entertainment and suspense in this Japan Series than I’ve seen in years. Why is that? Maybe development of players? Yomiuri Giants, you should try it instead of acquiring FA players that have lost their desire and edge.
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Thanksgiving stills holds the magic, much more than any other holiday. When I really concentrate on its memories or see photos, I can almost taste my mom’s moist dressing covered with some gravy that escaped the less than strong moat I made in the soft amorphous mashed potatoes. Add some butter smothered squash, mix it all up and label it ambrosia, food of the Gods. Please don’t forget homemade pumpkin pie with real whipped cream………I can remember the consistency and if I could just concentrate a bit more I think I can taste it. Maybe Apple will develop something to help experience past tastes….
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Perusing my hometown law enforcement cases recently I couldn’t help notice a former classmate of mine found himself back in the clink. I remember I saw his name in there about a year ago too. It made me flash back to the first time I met him in summer school when we were about nine years old. My participation in summer school was merely the workings of my mother not wanting to deal with her youngest for six weeks in the summer. And the opportunity to read more and be told how good I was at reading was thoroughly welcomed.
I had to be bused into town from our village so I hadn’t met any of the kids attending class. One of the first things I noticed was these kids didn’t really seem enthusiastic about Reading class, like they were being forced to be there. In fact, the kid sitting next to me was stone-faced with an unhealthy gray tint to his skin, blanketed with band-aids, cuts, and bruises. It’s difficult to explain but that nine-year old looked “experienced”, like he had already had an intimacy with the vicissitudes of life and didn’t have the energy to explain to someone as naïve as myself. From day two on I decided to sit across the room and steer clear so as to end up in his crosshairs.
Just thinking of what he has experienced over the past 46 years since that time just makes me tired, fatigued. The photo provided from his booking confirmed his exhaustion. Like he needed a two year nap. I don’t know what battles he’s had to face, but I know it’s been constant for going on 50 years.
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