We have a great photo of our first boxer when she was a puppy, that I came upon while going through my dad’s files:
Having just scanned that photo in, when Ashley jumped up on a picnic table on the way home, I spotted the similarity, and thought I’d try to recreate the vibe with her:
Not a complete success, I’m afraid, although it’s still a nice picture. #dogsofmastodon
Just a month or two after we got Ashley we happened to have the bad luck of walking right under the siren used for tornado warnings when they did their monthly test. (Something they do on the first Tuesday of every month at 10 AM.)
Ashley started howling along, which made me laugh. But then Ashley looked a little embarrassed, and I couldn’t have that.
So I started howling along with the siren myself, to assure her that it was entirely appropriate behavior, and she joined back in.
We’ve done that every month since then, but I had failed to capture it on video until a couple of days ago with this month’s test.
That second rule seems odd. “No pets without leash or horses.” Does that mean that if your dog has two or more horses it can be off-leash?
Ashley hanging out with her bestie Charlie. Don’t they look happy? #dogsofmastodon
Ashley and Dodo in the dog park. #dogsofmastodon
My progress toward being ready for sparing is very slow, but Purpleheart Armoury got some stock of HF Armory Black Knight gloves in my size, so I figured I should just go ahead and buy them.
They arrived today.
“That felt like going downhill,” said Jackie.
“We’ve been living in Central Illinois too long,” said I.
(To be fair, it was downhill—just barely.)
I got kinda ho-hum about rainbows when I lived in California, because they were so common. Back here in Illinois they’re more of a big deal—I probably see less than one a year, on average.
Looking through my dad’s stuff while in Kalamazoo for his funeral, I happened upon this photo of my brother and me that he’d taken.
My father passed away a few weeks ago. His funeral was Saturday.
My dad and me in 2018
Jackie and I found a place to board the dog, and then made a lightning-fast trip to Kalamazoo, driving up on Friday, hanging out with Katy that evening and the next morning, attending the funeral, and then heading right back home.
My brother and my dad in 2015
All of Katy’s kids came, along with their spouses. It was good to be able to visit with them as well.
The funeral was at People’s Church, the Unitarian church that my family attended from some time when I was in late elementary school. It was a great church, offering a spiritual community that avoided being laden down with a bunch of “god” stuff. I had not previously met Rachel, the current minister, but she did a great job, talking about the value of mourning, the value of sharing stories.
Along with Katy and her kids and their spouses, Jackie and I stood outside the sanctuary and shared a few words with each of the more than 100 people who came to celebrate my father’s life. There were many neighbors who had met them just in the few years that they’d lived at Friendship Village, neighbors from their old neighborhood on 5th street, many of my father’s former students, and more of my father’s old colleagues than I had expected, given that he had outlived so many of them.
After the funeral Jackie and I hit the road straight from the church, and headed on home, getting in just about dusk.
I’m glad to have gone.
I wrote a few words about my dad to read at the funeral. I’ll post the text in a bit.
