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Monthly Archives: November 2021
Last week, I sat in my office with a producer I’ve known for years. He had the best dog, a Border Collie named Bonnie.She didn’t do anything beyond standard tricks, but she was always eager to go wherever Al went, trotting happily along beside him and hopping in the truck gracefully. She was a sweet girl and would lay at his feet while he consulted me about his order.Bonnie passed away last year.My client blinked back tears and called himself silly for still getting torn up about his beloved Bonnie. I assured him he wasn’t being ridiculous at all, as I brushed away tears of my own, and she wasn’t even my dog.He wondered aloud how we can become so attached to a dog. “It didn’t use to be like this,” he said. “I mean, I had dogs growing up, and all my adult life, and they came and went, but this dog….and it’s not just me, it’s people everywhere. They don’t live outside anymore, they sleep in our beds! When did dogs become so important?”I smiled. “I think I know.”He waited.I began. “Used to, people would visit. We had a whole lot more face-to-face interaction. When was the last time you went riding around visiting on a Sunday afternoon? When was the last time you had…
He called me Pilgrim. We shared a love of peach milkshakes, pickles, peanut M&M’s, home grown tomatoes, blueberry anything, and we’d fight over Shirley Pitner’s stack cake. He taught me how to throw a frisbee, cast a line, shoot a variety of weapons, train a dog, clean my glasses, and identify trees in any season. Oh, and the best advice he ever gave me that I evoke multiple times a day (and it shows): “Eat all you can, every time you can, ’cause there ain’t no tellin’ what might happen before you can eat again.” We listened to Rush Limbaugh and Patsy Cline when I rode in his truck. We watched Star Trek and The Twilight Zone when I stayed with them when I was young. He bought me a microscope, and my first sleeping bag, but not the My Little Pony kite from McDonalds. And we have never let him forget it. My first (and last!) deer hunting trip was under his watchful eyes and sharp tongue. I couldn’t do anything right, but he’d sometimes concede that I was doing alright for a wimpy little girl. This was said in jest, and primarily to get me riled so I could do whatever it was I thought I couldn’t.He thought I should wear heels to work every day and that I should stay redheaded.He mowed my yard and…
I am sitting here, before this device, wondering how to say it. There are times in your life you live outside yourself. Some take you by surprise and take your breath and you wonder how it could be happening. Other times you know the day was inevitable and unavoidable but you still kinda float along, above and on the periphery. That’s where I am now. Today was the first day of deer season (muzzleloader). Today, and all first days of deer season for the last sixty or so years, you could find my Uncle Dale (“Tiny” to many) in the woods. “The deer woods”, he liked to say. And so my uncle spent his last day on this Earth where he was happiest. It is difficult for me to be SAD, because he passed away exactly where he wanted to, doing what he loved best. I cannot be angry, because he taught me to have respect, and he’s not here to argue his case. He would win, regardless. I will not be resentful because God took him, I will be grateful he didn’t languish in a hospital bed. He’d spent his due time in those over the years. I am broken-hearted and disappointed I didn’t get more tales on video. I am bewildered that the man lived through what he did and found a way to spin the incidents into a spellbinding story isn’t here to keep telling all he knew. My…
