Much That Is Hidden

This photo proves several things: that my dog is a crazy grass backscratchin' sun soakin' mongrel, I need to cut my grass and I need to cut my grass. I hate cutting grass, and if you saw our yard you'd give me the lawnboy award for the hill it's on.

As for the dog (his name's Brisbane), you say the title of this post repeatedly in a low gravelly tone for the duration of this activity, after which he pants and gives you a very self-satisfied stare. This dog has been my world for more than fourteen years. In my adulthood the longest I ever had a dog before him was about a year and a half. His adopted sister we've had for about eight years, and she has served her initial purpose very well (besides being a stray saved) - to keep Brisbane young.

I'm lamenting his loss of agility (and eyesight and hearing) even more markedly since he was attacked horribly by the neighbor's dog in April. Before that you would never have guessed he was fourteen. And so you can probably see where this goes. His sun is setting, and it tears me up thinking about it. I try not to do that often, and while I don't pray often, many times when I do it's about him. Just for a few more times to roll in the long grass. WOHOHOHOHHHH !