other apps. Or even a smartphone. And I passed a few exits, hoping what I wanted would be just a little further on up the road. I was also a little distracted, again, as the sun came up in my rearview mirror, over the Ozarks. Another rare time I wish I had my camera. This picture really doesn't do it justice, but that's a little of what I was seeing roll away behind me as I headed west. Add in some brighter colors, a bluer sky and the sun just up over the horizon, and you'd have a better idea of what I was seeing.
So I drove on. As the sun went higher and the miles went by, I gave up hope of Hardee's, drove through a McDonalds and found a gas station. Refueled and caffeinated, I got back on the road. Eventually, I crossed out of Missouri, skirting the corner of Kansas and went into Oklahoma. I had gone through so many states the day before, it was somewhat of a relief to finally get to a new one on this Monday ten years ago. Since I was going diagonally across Oklahoma, I was going to be there for a while. But at least I was out of Missouri, so it seemed like progress. I consulted the AAA triptych and decided I'd go past Tulsa and keep going to Oklahoma City before I stopped for lunch. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but I was really dragging by the time I realized that maybe it wasn't the best decision. I really needed to get off the road for a bit when I finally did get to Oklahoma City, and exited at a busy looking area where I thought I could sit down to a real meal, where someone would bring me lots of iced tea. I found a Lonestar Steakhouse, and could see a Best Buy on the street behind it. So I stopped for a mid-afternoon steak, and then planned to add a couple new CDs to my player. The first part of the plan went fine. Great food and service. I even fired up my laptop and checked my email. It took a little longer than I really wanted it to, but I needed the break. Road construction kept me from being able to get to the Best Buy, so I started my CDs over again and got back on the highway.
I checked in and called Lisa. My plan was to get on my laptop, find my next stop and get some sleep. I'd had a steak for a late lunch and really didn't feel like going back out to forage for food. Lisa made me promise I'd eat something, so I got some peanut butter and cheese crackers from the vending machine and called it a night. My plan was to make it to Phoenix the next day. If I left early enough, I could get there around dinner time. And then there would be just one more trip to go. I looked at my triptych again. It only looked like another four or five hours to San Diego. After all I'd already done, that didn't seem to be out of the question. I didn't want to say anything to Lisa about it, just in case I was too tired by the time I got to Phoenix. Sorry if I just put that song in your head. So I asked for a wake-up call at a ridiculous time of the morning. And for the only night I've ever spent in Texas, I didn't see any sites or get any barbecue. Instead, I fell asleep just as "Two And A Half Men" was coming on. I didn't have any ZZ Top in my road collection of CDs, but for some reason, I couldn't help but think of that little ol' band from Texas as I started to write this. And as I drove into Amarillo on that evening, I can't help but think a pair of cheap sunglasses would have come in really handy!
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For those who aren't familiar with the geography, there's spike or panhandle at the top of West Virginia that sticks up between Pennsylvania and Ohio. That was some of the most beautiful country I've ever driven through. It's almost distracting, the breath-taking explosions of color as the leaves were all changing. This is one of the few instances when I really wished I'd had a camera. Of course, if I had, I would have been even more distracted, and might not have ever finished the trip.
And then I was finally in Missouri! This was my last state for the day. All I had to do was drive around St. Louis and I'd be done. Since it was Sunday night, I thought it would be best to stay at a hotel on the other side, so I wouldn't have to fight St. Louis traffic on Monday morning. By the way, you can see the famous St. Louis Arch from pretty far away. For a while, it almost seemed like a mirage, and that even if I sped up, I still wasn't getting any closer to it. I was also fortunate in that the National League Championship Series was going on, and even though the Cardinals were home, playing the Astros in game 4 of the series, I got in, around and out of St. Louis without dealing with Championship traffic. Found my hotel, just west of the city, and then took some time for a treat. I didn't want to stay out late, going to one of St. Louis' famous blues clubs. Well, I did, but I knew it would be tough to get going early the next morning if I did. But I certainly wasn't going to stop in St. Louis and not have ribs! The night before, in Pennsylvania, when I had gotten online to find a hotel, I also looked up ribs. The internet informed me that one of the best places in St. Louis was a barbecue joint called Charlotte's Rib (named for a local TV celebrity). I was glad I did the research, as I heard someone asking the guy at the front desk for suggestions, and he told them he didn't know as he wasn't from the area, so there wouldn't have been any help there.
Not to turn this into a restaurant review (ten years later), but if you're ever in St. Louis, you should put Charlotte's Rib high on your list of things to do. I found my way back to the hotel, booked my next stop and said goodnight to Lisa. I was now half a country closer! Seems like I should have been listening to the blues on the way to St. Louis, but one of my most vivid memories of this leg of the trip is crossing a bridge in West Virginia, marveling at the spectacular display nature was providing me, and hearing "Telegraph Road" coming out of my car's speakers. I may very well be the only person who connects Dire Straits to West Virginia.
That last night at work dragged by. My car was packed, down in the parking garage, and when 10:00am finally came I was ready to roll! Then I started to remember half a million things I needed to do at work. I wasn't exactly leaving; I was transitioning. A better job, with better pay, but with the same organization. I was lucky. I worked for a radio network, writing and producing for their morning show. When I went in to give notice, the show didn't want to lose me, so they made a deal to hire me directly (with help, actually, from my soon-to-be former boss). This almost never happens in radio. I really was very lucky. So I needed a ton of things off of my work computer, which in my haste to get everything else done, I'd completely forgotten about. If you've moved from one city to another even once, I'm sure you can relate. I spent more time than I wanted to, loading up an external hard drive with all my stuff. In my over-excited state, I made dumb mistakes and this took much longer than I wanted it to. Or than it needed to. Finally, I was able to toss it, my laptop and my headphones into my car, and finally hit the road. I had tried to plan as best I could, knowing I'd get a late start. And that I'd be tired. So that first day, ten years ago, I had a short goal. I just wanted to get out of the states where I'd been living, so I could really feel like my new life was beginning. I had worked in DC, first living in Maryland and then in Virginia. I was exhausted, forced to stop at a Hardee's to load up on Dr. Pepper. The jolt of sugar and caffeine helped me keep going. And then I passed the sign that instantly reinvigorated me. It's hard to describe how good that felt. Suddenly, it all seemed real. The old life was back there in my rearview mirror, and I was really on my way. I chased the last rays of sunlight west, and briefly considered dumping my plan and going further that first day. The lack of sleep started to take its toll, though, and once I started seeing signs for Pittsburgh I was ready to call it a day. When I was three-going-on-four, we lived in Greensburg, Pennsylvania, which is just outside of Pittsburgh. I don't remember much about it. In fact, I only remember two things clearly. I remember that one night in the winter, there was a deer standing in the snow on our front lawn. This is not that deer. Or our lawn. But he (or she) did look right at us, while we watched from behind the curtains inside. Then the deer took off into the nearby woods. Which looks like what this deer is about to do. The other thing I remember is that my favorite show was Sid and Marty Kroft's H.R. Pufnstuf. If I remember right, in the episode pictured above, Jimmy was trying to get off the island and go home, and the witch was after Freddie. Obviously, with images of snowy deer and talking flutes in my head, it was time to get off the road. So I did. I had a reservation at a Hampton Inn just off the highway, checked in and got on my laptop to book my next night's stay. My plan was to get up at the crack of dawn and get to St. Louis in time for dinner. I was also talking to Lisa often on my cell as I traveled, and wanted to at least be in Ohio by the time she woke up the next morning. I listened to a lot of Maroon 5, Dashboard Confessional and Styx on that first day. The Styx was actually Dennis DeYoung, performing the Music of Styx with an orchestra. Amazingly, I didn't get sick of any of the music on this trip. In part, because I had so many CDs with me, but also, I think it was due to how excited I was to be on this journey. I've liked Styx for a long time. Their music used to remind me of good times in high school (when Paradise Theater and Kilroy Was Here came out). Now, a lot of what I hear from them reminds me of an October evening in Pennsylvania, when I was driving toward the sunset, toward Lisa and toward my new life in California. "Best Thing" was their very first single, released back in 1972. It barely dented the charts, peaking at #82. Styx released it again in a couple years on their fourth album, Man Of Miracles. So quite literally, it meant that there's more than one "Best Thing". And if the first one doesn't turn out the way you'd hoped, there's always opportunity for another.
At the time, I was living in Northern Virginia, looking forward to shedding my old life. Especially since I had a new life waiting for me in California. Here's where I stayed that last night, ten years ago tonight. It was nice, but it didn't really matter. I had a deal and they had a vacancy. It was very pretty, and at this time of year there were beautiful autumn colors and falling leaves. I had a nice dinner in the bar, and the room was great. I was too excited to sleep much, though. And I had to get up at night to go into work. My job was from 2:00am to 10:00am. I was training someone new, though my mind was on the road, very far away. I was exhausted but also really exhilarated, constantly thinking about my stuffed Saturn in the parking garage, and my AAA triptych on the passenger seat. For some reason, as I think back on this today, the J. Geils Band song "Musta Got Lost" is stuck in my head. While I didn't get lost, at any point on this journey, I did feel like I had been lost before this, and had been for a very long time. I had a ten-disc CD changer in my car at the time, but didn't take any J. Geils Band with me. I did have that player filled, and a box of CDs in the trunk, to try to keep me entertained. Leg 1 of the trip starts tomorrow!
Not bad for someone who’s career had only been five years long at that point. I’d imagine that even today, the list of performers with seven number one albums in their first five years is a really small number. Anyway, the song made me think of a segment that Psychic Medium John Edward does upon occasion. He uses the phrase “Up Until Now” and suggests you repeat that after addressing something that hasn’t been going well or has been a problem, adding different affirmations afterward. So if you have financial difficulties, you’d say something like, “I never have enough money…up until now.” Then you would add something like, “I gratefully except the abundance the Universe brings to me.” I find this song to be useful in that same way. Many of us have this that we’re stuck wherever we are, that somehow, our circumstances make us resigned to a life we don’t want. Nonsense. Every day is a new opportunity to start again. And not only is that true, but you don’t have to solve all your problems, or completely change everything, in one fell swoop. Starting Today, you can change your life. Instead of making it into some insurmountable task, give yourself permission to make progress at whatever pace you need to. Starting Today, I will take better care of myself. You don’t have to lose 100 pounds today. Or even 1. And you don’t have to run a marathon. You don’t even have to walk a mile. Start however you can. Even if that only means not finishing your fries and walking for five minutes. The important thing is to start. And you’re in charge of building toward whatever it is you want to achieve. The only time limits are the ones you put on yourself. But just the simple act of starting helps you feel like you are accomplishing something. And that affirmation can lead you to the next. Starting Today, I will walk for ten minutes. Starting Today, I will get back to daily meditation. Starting Today, I will begin looking for a better job. Starting Today, I will learn new things every day. Starting Today, I will clean one part of my home. Starting Today, I will do something that makes me happy. You can make it as specific or as general as you want. And if for whatever reason you don’t accomplish what you wanted to, you have another opportunity tomorrow. The important thing is to get started. Starting today.
“50 More” came from their third album, “Long Way To The Top”, which was a tribute to AC/DC’s Bon Scott, who died in 1980. They also recorded the title track, which was a 1975 song by AC/DC, and the band signed them up to open for them on the “Back In Black” tour that summer. “50 More” wasn’t a hit. I don’t think it was even a single. I lived in North Carolina at the time, and I believe our local rock station played it. It’s one of those songs that stuck with me. And it’s been on my mind quite a bit this week, as I turned 50. The song isn’t about turning 50. Far from it. It’s actually about a concert tragedy in Cincinnati when general seating tickets were sold to a Who concert, and there was such a rush to get in when the doors open, that people were trampled. 11 people died. And hardly anyone attending the show even knew about it until they saw it in the paper the next day. But as is the case with music, an artist or a song can mean different things to different people, whether or not that’s the intention of the singer, the band or the songwriter. For me, this song started popping in my head as my birthday drew near. It’s just that it has “50” in the title. The only other song I can think of that has “50” in the title is Paul Simon’s “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover”, and that just doesn’t seem to click with me. I don’t really have any hang-ups about being 50. I don’t remember having any problems with 40 or 30, either. The funny thing is, I was a little freaked out when I turned 20. Somehow, I had the ridiculous idea that once I was 20, I had to get serious about life. No more goofing off. Time to be a grown up. I’m so glad I got over that. And now I’ve been here for half a century. Some of the music people I love the most never got to turn 50. Elvis. John Lennon. Jim Croce. Buddy Holly. Rick Nelson. The whole “27 Club”. And on and on. So it’s a bit of an achievement. Like everyone else, I’ve had high’s and low’s. I’ve had tremendous successes, enjoyed them and was even cocky about them. And I’ve had disappointments and truly horrible days, sinking into despair and, upon occasion, unsure if I could even get out of bed. I’ve gotten to live in some pretty amazing places, and I’ve marked time, existing in some pretty dismal ones. And I had some fun. I’ve seen the Who, the Rolling Stones, Ray Charles and two of the Beatles. I’ve been to Disney World, Disneyland and just a couple blocks down from Times Square during Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. I don’t mean to suggest that I’ve had a charmed life, or to otherwise brag or anything like that. Certainly not my intention. The point is simply that I’ve had some really good times and some pretty bad times. But the bad times don’t stand out. It’s mostly the really good stuff that I remember. Is that because I’m so smart I don’t let that stuff stand out, or is it that they really do fade and the good stuff is the stuff that lasts? I’m not that smart, so it has to be the latter. And if there’s anything I’ve learned in my first half-century, it’s that you have to let that stuff go. You’re the only one keeping the bad memories, the bad vibes, alive. At the risk of putting that “Frozen” song in your head, let it go. If anything, I’m excited about this birthday. The first 50 were pretty great. And I can’t wait to see what the next 50 have in store! I’m also grateful that you’ve come along, to share at least part of my journey. And my birthday wish, for those who believe in those kinds of things, is that I hope the next 50 years contain as much fun, as much laughter, as much music and as much love as I remember in the last 50. And I wish that for every single person that reads this.
But witnesses say that, on the afternoon of August 16, 1977, Elvis say alone at his piano and sang “Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain”. It is amazing the number of lives that Elvis touched, and continues to touch thirty-eight years after his death. Huge crowds are gathered at Graceland this weekend for the annual vigil, and judging from the photos, many of the people there weren’t even born in 1977! That’s a pretty stunning legacy. So many like to turn Elvis into some kind of punchline. Elvis impersonators show up as comic relief in movies. Elvis himself is frequently tied in to bad-for-you food. And frequently when the topic of Life After Death comes up, or any kind of ghost/paranormal show, Elvis is mentioned. But there’s obviously so much more to him to leave behind this kind of devoted, out-pouring of emotion. This kind of love. Elvis Presley certainly doesn’t need me to defend him, and that isn’t what this blog is about. It’s about love. “Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain” was written by Fred Rose and recorded by Roy Acuff in 1945. Hank Williams recorded a version in 1951. And many more followed, including Slim Whitman, Gene Vincent and Conway Twitty. It was also the first number one song for Willie Nelson in 1975. It didn’t stop there. Roger Whittaker and Charley Pride both recorded versions in the 1980’s. Glenn Yarborough recorded it in 1997. And a version recorded by Eva Cassidy was released in 2008. Just two years ago, UB 40 recorded a reggae version. Every decade since it was written seventy years ago, someone has recorded this song! It’s about heartbreak and loss, but that’s not all. It’s also about hope. And it’s about a love that never dies. Love never dies. That’s pretty powerful. And it’s so very true. I’ve had so many gifted people on Psychic Tapestry, week after week. And the message is always the same, and always clear. We all go on. And everyone you’ve ever known, ever cared about, ever loved – they are all just a thought away. And as at least some of us think about the King this week, here’s the recorded version of the last song he ever sang. And if you only take one thing away from this blog, I hope it’s this: Heartbreak doesn’t last forever, and love never dies. month. It happens every two or three years, so it’s not all that rare. The next one will be in January 2018. Usually, if we think of something that’s rare, we think of it as a once-in-a-lifetime kind of event. While Blue Moons aren’t that at all, there is only one of them out of every 30-40 full moons, so I think that still counts as rare. The song by the same name is a standard that was written in the 1930’s by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart, recorded by Connie Boswell in 1935. It first became a hit in 1949. Actually, and fittingly, it became a hit twice that year, first for Billy Eckstine and then for Mel Tormé. Elvis Presley brought it into rock and roll in the 1950’s, and the Marcels took their version to the top of the charts in 1961. It has been recorded in many styles and by many artists, including Frank Sinatra, Benny Goodman, the Mavericks, the Cowboy Junkies and Ella Fitzgerald. I think we take the idea of a Blue Moon to heart. Somehow, we get this idea that there is only one of something for us, and if we miss it, we’re lost as it will never come around again. It comes up often with job opportunities, when we just weren’t in the exact right place at the exact right time. If only we had answered that call, or gone on that interview, or given that one different answer. It would have made all the difference, and now there is only regret. Many are doing something now for a living because they feel like they missed that one chance to pursue their dreams. And it comes up with relationships and love all the time. Movies, television, books and music all suggest to us that there’s one chance at love, and if you miss it, you’re doomed to be alone forever. Life isn’t all or none. And you have new opportunities to be happy, to be fulfilled, to be loved, every single day. But the only one who can decide to be happy, to be fulfilled and to be loved is you. That can be a lot of responsibility. And maybe that’s why so many make the decision to not. It looks easier and there’s no risk. And that’s the trap. Because there is all kinds of risk. You just don’t see it. And time has a way of flying by, so when you do finally see it, there’s a lot less sand left in your hourglass. What would make you happy? There’s no right or wrong answer. But you should really think about it. Because when you get to the answer that’s right for you, it could surprise you. And what would make you feel fulfilled? If it isn’t your current job, what would that perfect job look like? And what do you need to do to get there? You may not be able to do that today, but you can start to think and plan, and there’s an element of that which can be fulfilling in and of itself. Just the act of doing something that leads to where you want to be can ease your burden. Then there’s love. I used to say that I wanted to find someone who knew me and loved me anyway. At the time, I had no idea how low I was setting the bar. But having someone love you, in spite of who you really are, isn’t all that great. On the other hand, finding someone who knows you and loves you BECAUSE of who you are, that can make all the difference in the world. And when I say “knows you” that doesn’t mean they need to know everything about you. But they can know your heart. The rest will follow. You just have to be willing to share that. Maybe this can all be a goal, for all of us. Happiness, career and love (not necessarily in that order). And while we can shoot for having it all by the next Blue Moon, there’s another Blue Moon in March of 2018. And another one in October of 2020. And so on.
“Your Song” was the one that really launched him. And it was actually the B-side of the single.
For those who don’t know, songs used to be released as singles with an A-side and a B-side. The A-side was supposed to be the hit, the song the artist and the label were promoting. The B-side was just another song, frequently released as an afterthought. In this case, Elton’s song “Take Me To The Pilot” was supposed to be the hit. But radio preferred the song on the other side of the record. And it went on to sell a million copies. Elton has had some 11 more platinum singles, a total of 57 top 40 hits in the U.S. and 71 top 40 hits in the U.K. So far. Just on the basis of that info, the song and its story are about perseverance. About believing in yourself, even when things aren’t going the way you want, or you just seem to be failing, time and time again. To me, it’s a lot more than that. It’s a love song. And it’s personal. Many of the song’s lyrics were things I have said to the wonderful woman who is now my wife. Not verbatim, of course, but I conveyed similar messages. I’ve never had much money. I haven’t been able to shower her with riches, and I certainly didn’t win her heart in the first place with trinkets, baubles, jewelry, etc. All I had, and all I really still have, is who I am. I try to be good and kind. I don’t always succeed. I work too much. I don’t take very good care of myself (most of the time). In fact, I have a pretty good list of short-comings. But I love her. With all my heart and all my soul and all that I am. I would do anything I could to make her happy. I don’t always succeed at that, either, but I do try. And then I try again. In the big picture, whatever it is I try to do or to be or to achieve, is ultimately, for her and for us. That may not always be in the forefront of my mind, but it’s still the end result. And the truly wonderful thing is that she does the same for me. I think we live in a time where many are afraid to allow themselves to be that vulnerable. Scars from previous relationships can make us wary of exposing too much of our hearts, of giving too much. We don’t want to be hurt. Again. But that can also keep us from being loved. We all have our own song that we can share. Sometimes it takes some work to find it. And sometimes, we’re nervous, or even scared, about sharing it. But sharing yourself, your truth, your song, that makes all the difference. Lisa and I got married nine years ago this week. We don’t like all the same movies or TV shows or music or food. I love the city; she loves the country. She’s an amazing singer; I can’t carry a tune in a bucket with a handle on it. Our lives aren’t perfect. Our rescue cat is still hiding under the couch. Our dishwasher is kaput. We worry about our kids. We never have enough time for what we want to do, or just for each other. But whatever we do have, we freely give to each other. And I think that’s really the secret. It’s not about flowers and cards and rings and houses and cars. It’s about who you are, who you really are, and your willingness to share that. For Lisa, my Love, happy anniversary! I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do. My gift is my song. And this one’s for you.
Her efforts to get credit caused much of the recording industry to consider her a trouble maker, and she left the business by the end of the 1960’s and focused on her marriage and children (though she did appear as a background vocalist from time to time, including on a couple of David Bowie’s albums in the 1980’s).
Legal problems cropped up again when the song was used in an American Express commercial, which she heard randomly on TV. It took three years for her to get a settlement over that one, which she finally did in 1993. It’s been covered by many artists, including Diana Ross, Cher, Linda Ronstadt, Tom Jones, Roxy Music’s Bryan Ferry and Pat Benatar. And Melissa Manchester’s version has been the only cover to actual hit the charts. It is also the name of an organization that tries to place pets with new owners, in an attempt to save these pets’ lives. Some shelters across the country can’t take care of animals indefinitely, and many pets wind up being euthanized. So while this song really has nothing to do with pets, it’s that previous paragraph that made me think of it. If you read the previous blog, or have connected with us on Facebook, you’ll know that our family recently lost one of our much-loved dogs. I won’t re-hash all of that here, just know she was loved for about fifteen years, and her passing hit us all pretty hard. We figured we needed time to heal, and would get another dog eventually. But we needed time. On the other hand, we kind of needed a cat. We live in the mountains outside of San Diego, and the rural-ness of the area means there are lots of natural residents who, bit by bit, have been coming closer and closer to our home. We used to have cats, but the last one took that long walk a while back, so we’re unprotected. We went to our local shelter and picked out a grey kitten. Her name is Audrey. Years ago, my wife and kids did this before, selecting our last cat, also a grey kitten. They named him Seymour, after the male lead in Little Shop Of Horrors. So naturally, the new kitten is Audrey, which was the female lead in that same movie. On the previous occasion, when they’d selected the grey kitten, they turned around and saw a black adult cat. The guesstimate was that he was eight years old, but no one knew for sure. His owner was moving into an assisted living facility and couldn’t take the cat. It seemed so sad to leave this poor old cat in the shelter, where he would probably live out his remaining days, so they adopted him, too. And he lived for another seven years or so. Well, this time around, as we turned around with our new grey kitten, there was another black adult cat. His name is Ox. He was eleven, and he’d been in the same situation as our previous black cat. The shelter told us he’d been there for months. An adult cat, living in a small cage for months. That just didn’t seem right. So we adopted him, too. While Audrey is very playful at home, Ox is still trying to decide what to make of his new situation, so he’s been hiding under the couch. He comes out a couple times a day to use the litterbox and have something to eat, and the last couple of these appearances have actually happened during daylight hours, so I think he’s adjusting.
The first picture is Audrey, finally tuckered out after playing and pouncing on things all day. I think she slept a total of ninety minutes. Since Ox is mostly under the couch, and getting a picture of him is like trying to get a picture of Bigfoot, the second photo is kind of like an artist’s rendering of what he looks like, in his lair under the couch.
It didn’t all end there. We also came across Benji, a dog who had been there for a month or two. He’s also eleven, and had been dumped off by owners who just didn’t want him any more. Seriously. I have no idea who people can be that cruel. After eleven years! So Benji is now part of our family, too.
Look at that smile! I think he likes it here!
My point of all this was not to show you what wonderful people we are. I’m hoping that it sparks an idea for someone reading this to seek out their local shelter and consider bring home a furry friend or two. Especially the older ones that most people don’t even look at. They need it most. They call these shelters and the animals there “rescues”, intimating that you are rescuing them, either from euthanasia or from living out the rest of their lives in small cages. And I have to say that spending time with Audrey, Benji and Ox, there’s a really special feeling I get. They’re so happy to have a new home (now that they’re somewhat used to it). And you can feel that when you look in their eyes. There is something that is absolutely magical about doing something for someone who can’t ever repay you. It makes your heart lighter, and your own problems seem so much smaller. Is it perfect? No. They’re still dogs and cats, and they have issues. They try to eat each others food. Ox coughed up a really gross hairball one night. Benji will occasionally bark his head off at the couch, and try to fit Audrey’s head in his mouth. Audrey will sneak up on Benji while he’s sleeping and pounce on him. Seeing Benji smile at me and wag his tail makes it SO worth it. So while it might be corny to say, I don’t think we rescued them. They rescued us. |
AuthorKen Kessler has always been interested in psychic phenomena, and like Mulder on the X-Files, wants to believe. But like most, he tends to look for, and accept, rational explanations. (More) Archives
April 2018
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