It doesn't get any easier

Yesterday, we lost our beloved family dog to a brain tumor. A better companion, friend, sweetheart, and protector you'll never find. This morning is the first one since she fell ill and had to be hospitalized on Saturday that I definitely knew I would never let her out in the backyard again when I awoke, our daily, matutinal ritual.

She lived with me for over 13.5 years, although she was 15 years, 9 months old when she died. Her first two years were spent with my brother and ex-sister-in-law. I first met her when she was eight weeks old; I knew right away that there was something special about her. I told my brother that if they ever wanted to get rid of her, I'd take her. Two years later, she came to live with me, a bachelor at the time.

When I met my wife and she came to live with me, Princess barked at her and ran away. Soon, however, they became fast friends and soul mates, and it was that way for over 13 years. A dog will often bond especially close with one family member, and my wife was that person in our home. As you can imagine, she is devastated.

When I was a boy, a dog came to live with us who bonded with me. A number of years later, she became old and infirm and had to be put to sleep. Because I had this terrible experience under my belt, I thought I'd be somewhat inured to losing another animal, but I was wrong. It doesn't get any easier as I age, it gets harder. I am not ashamed to admit that I cried like a baby for the old girl.

Goodbye, Princess. You will not only be missed, but grieved for too.

Take care.
DAL357

Texas, and a tangent

Whew! Did we ever need that!

Our recent whirlwind tour of San Antonio and Corpus Christi, Texas, were welcome diversions to an otherwise dreary Colorado winter (I’ll be 49 this year, so EVERY winter seems dreary, not to mention longer than the last). The wife and I, along with our son, took the opportunity afforded by Spring Break (formerly known as Easter Break pre PC) and headed south for warmer weather and old friends. After the short respite from cold weather we had in the Lone Star state, I now understand why older folks move to warmer climes after retirement: because warm weather opens up so many options, an especially important consideration when you begin to realize you won’t be around forever.

One thing that dawned upon me after I returned to Colorado’s second-largest city was how much I actually missed my old pal, Gary. You know, in the area of friends, women have it much easier than men as they age. A woman can maintain lifelong friendships because all she needs to keep them going is conversation. Men, on the other hand, relate to each other by doing things together: watching/playing sports, fishing, hunting, etc. As they age and take on familial/financial responsibilities/obligations, the time just doesn’t seem to be there anymore for these friendship-enhancing activities. It doesn’t help when distance separates the parties either. A woman need only pick up the phone and call her friend in another city or state and her friendship is refreshed. When the same amount of distance stands between men, however, it’s usually the beginning of the end. Activities are difficult to plan and execute regularly at long range. Plus, after a certain age, it seems most men’s capacity for making close friends diminishes. Such is life.

Getting back to the mini-vacation, we had a wonderful time and did all of the touristy things: the San Antonio river walk, the Alamo (hey, I know it’s a shrine to Texas' independence from Mexico, but what a needless, wasteful battle), the caverns tour, the botanical gardens, and the beach in Corpus Christi.

I think one of the reasons this getaway was so nice was our loose agenda. We’ve been on vacations before that were too stacked with activities to enjoy them. Another reason was our hosts’ hospitality; they were simply wonderful. A big thanks to you both!

Take care.
DAL357

It's been a while.

As my many reader (that's not a typo) have no doubt noticed, it's been a while since my last post. That's due to a couple of reasons. One, my ability to connect to the 'Net did not exist for nearly the last week due to a Qwest-purchased DSL modem that is no longer under warranty that failed. Qwest was happy to replace the modem, for SIXTY! bucks, but at least the new modem is twice as fast as the old one, so I suppose I shouldn't complain too much. Two, I refuse to live for a blog, as so many others seem to do. I'll post when I feel like it, but cyberspace doesn't rule my life, and I feel sad for those who allow it to. Pahnyahtnah (Russian for understood)?

On Monday, June 25, I went to help a friend realize his dream in southern Colorado. This friend, whom I'll call Roger, bought some land outside of La Veta and is building a house on it. While building it, he's been living in a rented cabin with all of his worldly possessions. I went to help him move some of his heavier goods (furniture, large, free-standing power tools, etc.). When I left on Wednesday, we had moved the majority of the items that required the attention of more than one person into his partially-completed home. Mission accomplished.

Redoubtable Roger's Retreat

I also went to the area to do a little solo camping, but the weather was uncooperative, a not-too-unusual occurrence in Colorado, so that didn't happen. Maybe it's just me, but I don't enjoy heavy rain while camping.

One bright spot, though, aside from the friendly visit, was seeing my first bear in the wild. While taking a scenic drive through the area mountains and valleys, I spotted a wide, black form about 150 yards to my right in a field. I quickly pulled over and, sure enough, it was a bear. I snatched the camera and snapped a photo and then traded the camera for my binocular. What appeared to be an ink-black black bear from a distance turned out to be a dark-brown black bear with a wide arse and body (I mean female-Wal-mart-shopper wide) and a tan muzzle. The bear was on the very edge of the field, near the forest line, and he only stayed exposed for perhaps a minute, then he waddled into the woods. Although I've never seen a black bear in the flesh, save the zoo, I've seen enough hunting photos of harvested black bears to know that this was a large, mature bear. I count myself lucky to have seen this animal.

See the bear? I took the photo and I can't, but he's there, somewhere, right of center.

Take care,
DAL357