SNOWY, FOGY MORNINGSunday, 8:30 AM. 18 degrees, wind W, calm. The barometer is down, and it is snowing gently, big dime-sized flakes. The Island is obscured by snow and fog.
Lucky and I are still feeling poorly, I with an affliction that has come and gone half my life, so I know it will go eventually. Lucky, however, has been as sick as though poisoned, despite a trip to the vet. We both made it up the hill for a short walk this morning, so perhaps things are turning around. But it gives one pause, to realize that eventually some random illness or accident or just old age will eventually do all of us in. If you want to contemplate your own life, own a dog. Their lives are much, much shorter than ours but are very similar in many ways; almost a human life in microcosm. Perhaps that is why we are so attracted to them as companions. We walk the same path.
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