This was a great 4th...yesterday we spent the evening with our friends Jon and Sandy...I even put new strings on my washburn for the occaision, but I got the most out of my G&L ASAT.
Plus, there were lots of dogs around, football dogs mostly and one spazz named stinky. And there was even a cat.
Tonight...the actual 4th... we spent with our friends Cris and Suzanne who have a shitload of dogs...all rescued dogs. A greyhound, a ridgeback and the rest are foxhounds. The patriarch is Muddy.
Muddy is an old man...ravaged by age, the most obvious being his cataracts. When I petted him tonight, I could feel his age telegraphing through my hands...I remembered when they first got him and where did the time go?
He's had a good life since they took him in...but he's coming round to the end. And it made me sad. Sad that Muddy's life is almost over, and sad for the loss Cris and Suzanne see on the horizon.
And I thought about our own dogs. Theo is no spring chicken, and he's not been the healthiest dog. And he's 9. And he's probably near the end as well.
When I was a kid I had dogs. As an adult, I've buried dogs...Buddy, Skeeter, diamond...and we can't forget about cypress.
Loss is what I'm getting at here.
Muddy's not mine, but looking at him tonight, he might as well have been.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say about dogs exactly...but I think I've said it.
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