November 9, 2009

The weekend that was

I had been on the road for work all week, and after an exhausting time on the job, I came home Saturday morning. As per the norm, Casey met me at the door with a wet tongue and a tail that could have broken a tibia, had it struck the wrong angle.

We spent the past couple days walking more miles than most people do in a month, watched a couple sunsets, took naps beside the fireplace, and ate like Kings (me: grilled brats and baked beans, washed down with beer; her: a beef femur bone and a handful of gizzards and hearts mixed in with her kibble.)

Reminded me of this:

"I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands.
"When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands;
"Then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat.
"For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that."

~ W. Dayton Wedgefarth

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