The Dog.

July 13, 2014 § 11 Comments

My friend John says, the day you get a dog the clock to heartbreak starts ticking.

And it’s true.

Get a dog and you commit to loving a member of a short-lived species. Not gerbil-short, but far shorter than your own expected life span.

Better to love a tortoise or a parrot.

And yet most of us choose a dog, because between the first tick of that clock and the last is an unconditional friendship not possible with a member of any other species, including our own.

Most of the credit for that belongs to the dog.

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A day in the life… We buy the farm.

September 25, 2010 § Leave a comment

Journal entry written: October 10, 1999

I’m bad at change.  If it weren’t for Ray, a sofa would never change location in our living room.  If not for Ray we wouldn’t be signing a mortgage on 9.72 acres in Wakulla County.

The beauty of the project comes to me in flashes; a pair of bench seats hangs by chains from the limbs of a Live Oak; a sand road winds through the many gates on this property that was once a farm.

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