I ask myself why I write these things. Why I feel compelled to bumble my way through the telling of my thoughts and life. But here I am…sitting in a room with 3 dogs vying for position at my feet and me typing into the robot box.

You ever see shit that makes you just want to pull the vehicle over and think in earnest about what you just saw? Cause you want to make sure that that experience you just had was authentic and real. Well that was me today, sitting there in the Scientific companies parking lot because I wanted a moment of focus.

What possesses an old man to get a dog? I have 4 right now and at 47 I know I will prolly say goodbye to my last one in my 50’s. I don’t know if my heart will be able to say goodbye again after that… not to another one… losing Stas was hard…it just compounded the grief of losing Eric…every time I sat down here over the summer to try and say something… get feelings out… the rush of grief was just too unbearable. So I would just leave this alone…. and a part of me still feels the same way.

The old man was not moving fast… and the small dog that accompanied him was in no hurry to pass his master. There was this shuffle shuffle sniff sniff cadence that I think they had come to an unsaid agreement on. I could tell by his gait that he was no spring chicken… and I could tell by the wobble of the dog that his sevens had been adding up. It was right then I just had this firework go off in my gray matter…or maybe my heart… or soul. Just this befuddlement.

I started creating all these tangents in my mind about him and this dog. That he had a wife at home and that this was “their” dog. And that if he was suddenly to pass that the dog would be a comfort and companion to his widow. Conversely, if the dog passed the old man would have his wife to grieve. Inevitably I came to… what if either or dies. And they have nothing…. the thought made my heart sink and I was straight back to losing Stas… or that phone call about Eric passing. IT DIDNT GO ANYWHERE… the stages were bullshit… it just hid itself in warmer and longer days of summer. It just hibernated until the point it became hungry… and the simple act of seeing this old man and his dog was a tripwire.

I was pissed I felt that way… could feel that way. I didn’t want to be “triggered” . But there I was… feeling like I wanted to punch something, cry out loud, and go pee all in the same breath. All over the fucking shuffle shuffle sniff sniff of some geriatric duo.

Life is quixotically unhinged at the strangest points in my life. The lessons that I’m supposed to learn riddled with symbolism and fuckery. It’s like playing Pictionary, but just when you figure out where the cards are to make a match… there is this karmic ” ah got ya, shithead” moment where the cards get shuffled and you start again. It’s not that I’m struggling… far from it… I just wish the picture was a little clearer sometimes.

The old dude and his dog wasnt the issue… I want to tell myself that it was this learning moment where I have become a little more self aware of my own mortality. That this time we have is finite and to be happy. I believe I said it before… perhaps the best advice I could give myself, and maybe you, is….

” Enjoy yourself, It’s later than you think…..”

Cheers….