Monday, February 22, 2010


Feb. 21, 10. Katy is glad to see me up early. I give her ears a long and gentle rub as she is unable to do it for herself anymore. She is grizzled in the face, her body is full of tumors and arthritis makes life difficult but she plods on. As she lays at my feet I sense her joyful spirit. Sharon has already dug Katy's grave because she doesn't think she will survive the winter. I have also said my goodbye to this faithful, loyal, loving creature who has been Sharon's ideal companion for 14 blessed years.
Judith Guest. "It's easy to lose sight of the fact that writers do not write to impart knowledge to others, rather, they write to inform themselves." After a breakfast of coffee with bagels well buttered and spread with Patty's rose petal jam Sharon and I , accompanied by our lab buddies embarked on a polar journey. We walked Schabb's Bay over icy ridges of crusted snow. We tried to stay on old snowmobile tracks but we often stepped over the hard edges to sink into the soft loose snow.
After a lunch of beef stroganoff we sat and read poems to each other. She read Dorothy Parker and I chose Mary Oliver. The she drove me to Henneman's where I had a brief visit with Shawn who is now 17. He is tall and slender and wise.

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