Propel, Propel, Propel Your Craft...

A while ago, my eldest brother shared a link to the Way Out Junk Blog, a site that features out of print records from long ago. His collection spans across decades of out of print LP's, ranging from classic Children's albums to political comedy records and beyond.

I had downloaded a copy of Mister Rogers' album, King Friday XIII Celebrates in Misterogers' Neighborhood of Make Believe fairly recently and found myself listening to it earlier today.

Two songs in particular struck me as particularly hilarious, Propel, Propel, Propel You Craft and Three Rodents With Defective Vision, so I went tooling around the 'net to find the lyrics.

During my search, I stumbled upon this gem. For those of you who have ever been in the Scouting program, you'll definitely recognize at least one or two of these songs.

The thing that strikes me the most is that while most of the principal elements of each song is constant, there are several regional differences between the version on their website and the versions I recall from my own days in Scouting. Was talking with Robert about something of this nature before regarding the variations in oral tradition and this illustrates this concept very clearly.

For example, let's take Announcements. A classic example because while the first part is the same, there are several other verses that we used to sing along with it.

Their version goes like this:

Announcements, announcements, announcements ,
A terrible death to die, terrible death to die,
A terrible death to be talked to death,
A terrible death to die

Announcements, announcements, announcements,
Ohhh...

Our version went something like this...

*Ahem* (Practices scales and clears throat)

Announcements, announcements, announcements!
What a horrible way to die.
A horrible way to die.
A horrible way, a horrible way, a horrible way to die.
Announcements, announcements, announcements!

We sold our cow! We sold our cow!
We have no need, for your bull now.

Did you ever see a windbag, a windbag a windbag?
Did you ever see a windbag, well there's one right now!

Blows this way and that way
And this way and that way
Did you ever see a windbag?
Well there's one right now!

Did you ever hear about Patrol Leader Jeff?
His kindly Scout Leader talked him to death.
Now he's up with the angels, seeking all kinds of angles
To keep his fellow scouts from the same tangles
But all of them Angels and even the Devil fall by being talked to death.

Announcements, announcements, Annnnooouuuunnncccceeeeemeenttts!

(Finish with gurgling and impersonations of over-dramatic dying gasps and groans.)

I was actually pleasantly surprised to find that Johnny Verbeck still floating around. Back in my era and in my region of the country, the name was actually "Johnny Rebeck," but otherwise the song pretty much matches up to my memory of it.

The memory is a little hazy on the song we used to sing as cadence whenever we would go hiking. I can recall most of it, but forgive me if the lapses have crept in.

Everywhere we go
People want to know
Who we are?
Where we come from?

So, we tell 'em
We ain't the Marine Corps!
The Jarhead Marine Corps!

We ain't the Air Force!
The Flybaby Air Force!

We ain't the Navy!
The deck swabbin' Navy!

We ain't the Army!
(I forget this part except it ends with "Army" Backpackin' Army kinda sounds right.)

We are the Boy Scouts
Of the mighty Troop Twennnnty
(Forget this line too. Something about... Meh, can't remember)
From the big-assed state of Texas. (This line I didn't forget. Buddy of mine came up with it, we found it hilarious much to our Leaders' chagrin, but it stuck anyway)

Sound off!
1. 2.
Sound off!
3. 4.
SOUND OFF!
1, 2, 3, 4 Can we hike a little more? ONE TWO THREEFOUR!

See? Now I'm transplanted to a time where we'd pay someone a dollar to fart on the campfire to prove the Theory of Fireass Stupidity!

Good times and good memories!

Achieving Your Childhood Dreams: The Stumble Upon Edition...

When I was a lad, I recall having a short list of things that I wanted to do in life tucked away in my dresser's middle drawer.

I'd pull the list out of its safe-keeping spot and glance it over, occasionally scrawling a new desired life goal in waxy crayon and scratching out the ones I didn't like anymore. I hadn't actually thought of this list in decades, but I stumbled across it recently and decided I'd check in with my spelling-inept six year old self and see how I was doing...


1. A puppy of my very own.

I've co-owned a small handful of animals throughout the years, usually resulting in having to surrender them to the ex-girlfriend once our relationships would end. Usually they were the ones who'd bring the pets into the relationship, so it was logical that they would go with them after things were over. I think in one or two cases, I missed the animals way more than I did the owners.

I'm one who definitely gets attached to the cuddly beasties and I'm not afraid to admit that.

Then I met Katy, the golden retriever puppy I adopted while on a business trip to Houston. She was my puppy and she was awesome. I still miss her, she was a hell of a dog. She'd be the first dog I ever brought into a relationship and when that relationship was going to end, I knew she was coming with me! Heh.


2. Be a seal trainer.

Behold!



Alright, so that wild career in working with my favourite animal in the world didn't exactly take off. Turns out I needed more of a marine biology background and tons of experience with animal training to even think of doing this for a living, but this was the next best thing.

I found out that Sea World offered these "Sea Lion Interaction Programs" for an additional fee. I was surprised on my birthday with the opportunity to jump in with the sea lions, which I looked forward to. Then I had my surgery this year and had to wait some more.

Until July.

104 degrees that day.

In a wet suit.

Still, totally fucking worth it. It was even more awesome than I ever imagined it'd be. I'll probably post about this adventure later on, but it was definitely the coolest thing since swiss cheese dipped in awesome sauce.


3. Yep, this happened this year as well. Not by real design because I was looking more at the sticker prices and condition of the vehicles I was shopping for, but I have to admit that I did finally get my cool blue truck. Yay, TARDIS!


4. I'm never going to be President of the United States, nor the President of the United Federation of Planets, nor President of the local Rotary Club. I still may be president of my own company some day, but I believe in this case that ascending to the political path of the office of President was a childhood dream I came up with after watching Reagan on TV passing Jelly Bellys to his cabinet.

Having thought about it a bit more, I am actually the head of state of a nation in Cybernations, a game I play online. I rule my country fairly without any real world consequences and I can be President of my beloved Nachoburrito while eating Jelly Belly's if I so choose. Yes, I can nuke the crap out of my enemies while eating very cherry beans and lounging around in my pj's, thankyouverymuch.

So, I'll call this one good. :)


5. Make millions of dollars... Hrmmm. Work in progress. I'm happy making tens of dollars for now, but I'm keeping my eyes open.


6. Yep, went to California by myself, with friends and with ex-girlfriends several times since I was a kid. Last time I went was years ago, but I'm about due to go again. Done and done!


7. Beating up my brother M for tormenting me all those years. Truth be told, if I hadn't been so obnoxious, he'd probably have left me alone most likely.

I didn't quite kick his ass, but I do recall being bigger than him and pinning him to the floor during a good natured brotherly brawl in the living room. I think he still won that one or perhaps we ended in a draw if I recall, but I think being able to actually knock him on his ass helped us learn that we were both too old for that shit. Heh.


8. Rosie, sweet Rosie. I had the biggest crush on her when we were in Kindergarten together. I used to let her borrow my fingerpaints and she'd sometimes share her snacks with me at lunch. I loved her so much that I named my favorite stuffed seal after her. Ahhh, such young love.

If I recall correctly, she was in love with Jason though so we Rosie and I were only just friends, destined to never sit on the swings next to one another.

I never heard where she ended up, but I hope she is well. Although if she is single and still just as sweet after all these years at age 33 as she was at age 5, tell her to meet me at the swings after recess.


9. No and no, unless you count Halloween costumes. Not that I'd be interested in the godless Michael Bay Transformers one whit. Original series for the win.

I heard there's a DJ named DangerMouse, but I doubt I'd impress him/her with my awesome Penfold voice impressions.

"Oh, crumbs, Chief I bungled it again, eh?"

See? Nothing. No phone call or anything. Philistines.


So, that's part one of mine so far. How are y'all doing on yours?

Comments drop below in the bottom-hand side, yo!

Happy Birthday 'merica!

Watched John Adams on my iPod again for the fourth time and I'm going to see some fireworks. Hope y'all have a most outstanding one!

1 2 3 4 United States Floating Corps...

This is my inner tube.

There are many like it, but this one is mine. My tube is my best friend.

It is my life. I must master it, as I must master my life.

Without me, my inner tube is useless. Without my inner tube, floating down the river is useless.

I must air up my tube true. I must float away from sharp rocks, who are trying to kill me. I must pack my cooler well before the river attempts to flip me.

I will.

Before God I swear this creed. My tube and myself are floaters of the Guadalupe. We are the masters of our drunken destiny. We are the awesome wasters of time.

So be it, until there is no more river, but sand.

Amen.

Some Days Are Work, Most Days You're Lazy...

I remember a day, many years ago, when I was hiking with my brother at Enchanted Rock State Park.

I remember this day well because it was one of several outings we used to go on when we were younger. Back then when we had our entire lives still ahead of us and things were seemingly less complicated.

I remember our discussion of the Panama Canal and it's impending turnover to the Panamanian government in 2000, thanks to Jimmy Carter. I'm not sure how we got there, but we did somehow.

I remember his advice as we scaled the back side of the granite hill adjacent to Enchanted Rock itself. Dude, walk zig-zagged up the hill. It's way easier on your legs than just going straight up.

I remember buying as much Mr. Pibb out of the vending machine at the ranger station as was possible. Can't get this stuff at home, now can we?

I don't know exactly what brought back this series of memories but they led to others of adventures we'd had at Schlitterbahn, Sea World, Frederich Park. I remember joining him for a quick trip up to San Marcos and how I first discovered the Police and their Synchronicity album that same day.

I can go further back and remember seeing 101 Dalmations and The Aristocats. I can remember Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal.

Been a long time since I let myself just sit here and wander a bit, but it always feels good to crack a smile, no matter what time it is...

Since It Somehow Got Clobbered Before...

Used to have this recipe posted on the blog but it went AWOL for some reason. Since Fall is here, I thought it necessary to unleash it upon the world again!

Enjoy!


Homemade Chicken Pot Pie

2 Unbaked pie crusts (Mrs. Smith's works fine in a hurry. If you have time, it's even better to make your own from scratch!)
6 Tbsp. Butter
1/2 Cup chopped onion
1/2 Cup flour
1 Tsp. salt
3 Cups chicken broth
1/2 Cup green peas, shelled
2 Medium sized carrots, chopped or sliced
3 Cups of cooked chicken, sliced into small pieces.

Pre-heat oven to 450 degrees.

Saute onion in butter. Blend in flour and salt. Add broth to mixture all at once.

Cook and stir mixture until thick and bubbly. Add chicken, peas, carrots and chicken. Stir mixture to a soft bubbling boil.

Pour mixture into one of your ready-made pie crusts. Carefully remove the pie crust dough from the other pie crust pan and cover over the now filled pie crust. Gently pinch the edges of the pie crusts together to seal the pie shut.

Next, carefully cut two to three small slits in the top pie crust. Bake the pie at 450 for 10-12 minutes or until the pie crust is a light golden brown and is flaky to the touch.

Serves 4 - 6

Jim Davis - Respect +1

I mentioned Garfield Minus Garfield a few months back. The guy who runs the site, Dan Walsh, has taken Jim Davis's Garfield comic strip and attempted to give us an idea of what the strip would look like if Garfield was removed from the strip.

As you browse the strips, you get a different look at Garfield's "owner," Jon Arbuckle. You almost get the sense that Jon is an eccentric, ofttimes neurotic loner who struggles to get through each day. Several of the strips make you laugh purely at the bizarre randomness of Davis's cartoonist hero, others simply make you ask what the hell is wrong with Jon.

Either way, it's amusing as hell.

In recent news, Jim Davis has not only given Dan of Garfield Minus Garfield his blessing to continue posting the strip online, he has gone a step further and has extended a hand of friendship towards him by offering to work together in combining both the original Garfield and the altered Garfield Minus Garfield strips into one book collection. They will present both strips as a side by side comparison so you can experience the full effect.

This is awesome.

You don't see a lot of things like this in today's litigious society. You really don't.

When I first saw Garfield Minus Garfield I thought to myself that I'd better enjoy it while I could before the dreaded cease and desist letter laid the legal smackdown on Walsh. Especially once Fark caught a sniff of it and presented the site to millions of Internet citizens as a link on the front page.

In my opinion, Jim Davis showed a lot of class here. Walsh wasn't out to destroy the reputation of Davis's creation, after all, just to show us a different side of it while giving full credit to the strip's creator. His intent was to provide a tribute to the festively plump feline (even though he was removing him entirely, I know...) as well as to bring new laughter to the table.

Instead, Davis looked at it and thought, "Huh. You know, this is actually kind of awesome. I should totally get in on this." It was very generous on his part and the while the offer to collaborate will indeed add more lasagna to the wallet, it also is a great step forward regarding reaching out to the public.

Try and see if Cathy or For Better or Worse's creators would ever allow anything remotely like this. Top marks, Mr. Davis, top marks.

I haven't bought a Garfield collection book since '87, but I will definitely be picking up this one when it hits the shelves.

Dr. P In London? It's More Likely Than You Think...

My esteemed colleague and friend, the honourable Dr. Pangloss (or my good buddy T as I call her) is currently in London for an extended stay. It's been her dream to go for several years and as of this Monday, it is now a reality!

So, feel free to stop by and read her adventures. Amusement, merriment and tons of neat stuff will most definitely ensue!

Click here for Londony goodness!

Answer The Call, Me Hearties!

It is time.

As a special salute to the opening of the 2008 tubing season, I'd like to post links to my two part entry from last summer. See, B. A., I didn't forget! ;)

Here's the glorious Part 1

and

The also glorious Part 2

Enjoy! :)

Take Us To Defcon Santa...

For those who've never seen this, the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) is currently tracking Santa's movements across the globe as they have for several years now. They've teamed up with Google Maps to provide updated map info and video recreations of his visits every five minutes.

Click here to keep track of the Big Guy as he races against the clock to deliver goodies for Christmas!

Also, Happy Christmas to you all!

Hilarity Returns...

I've seen a lot of familiar faces over this time, some I knew because of my Dad's job, others I knew by proxy of them being friends of my family and a couple who were lost friends of mine who popped up to reconnect.

I think out of the group, I was most happy to reconnect with my good pal (and frequent nomad) Nic last night. We've been friends for, geez, half our lives now and I believe that we've lost touch with one another no less than five or six times.

It's been strange because in several instances, our lives have frequently run parallel to one another when it comes to personal drama. I would say that were we to combine each others' ex-girlfriends/boyfriends into one big MechaEx, Toyko would be laid to ruin one sunny Sunday afternoon before tea time.

I recall a comment once made about her by someone I know that she was a "heap of trouble" and that I should give her a wide berth. The author of this comment, though I love and respect that person as I have all my life, didn't really see Nic in the same light as I did. I suspect it was because Nic had this rebellious aura around her back then. She looked like a troublemaker.

And sometimes, she could be one too. At least in a completely harmless, hilarious way that someone with her sense of humour would create. Quite the devious prankster is how I'd describe her.

She's been through a hell of a lot in her life and I suppose that is what fascinates me the most about her character. For every setback, every dumb personal choice, every incident of bad shit that life has thrown at her, she's always picked herself up, dusted herself off and found a way to move on.

I envy her strength in a way. I've been through a ton of shit myself, but I've found myself to turn more inward at times more often than to just move on with my life. Perhaps it is just my nature to agonize forever over something until I can compartmentalize it and finally move on.

Overanalysis, that's the problem. Yeah, that's so totally it.

Is it?

Hmmm... Let me think about that...

Anyway, the point is that she's a good person with a good heart. Perhaps not blessed with the greatest amount of luck, but one of the few people alive on this planet who I'd definitely get hit by a Capitol Metro bus if it meant saving her life. I think she'd do the same, except she could stop the bus with her bare hands and make it cry uncle. She's good people and one of my best pals. While we're rarely ever in the same area code of one another and may lose contact for months, nay, years at a time, we'll find each other again eventually and pick up where we left off.

The final note of hilarity in the situation is this: She has been accepted into the police academy, so she's going to be a member of the law enforcement community within 4 to 6 months. Some "troublemaker," eh? Heh.

Seriously though, I'm damned proud of her. She's come a long way, through hell and back and has persevered. Life for her may never be perfect, but that's alright.

Is life ever perfect for anyone?

Video Trek III: The Search For Dad - Part 9...

SitRep:

0.25 days remain.

Status: Complete

-------------

I am so gorram tired right now.

Had to come into work for a half day. I really wish I could have knocked off the entire day, but my workload just wouldn't permit it.

That's ok. Shirking my responsibilities at work wouldn't necessarily be a good thing at this time of year when business is starting to pick up for the pre-Christmas rush. Still, when that alarm sounded reveille at zero-ohmygodit'searly this morning, I knew right there and then that I was going to be exhausted as hell and would crave the chance to sleep until noon.

It's been quite a busy week for me in trying to get Dad's video finished. I had underestimated how much edit time I would need, which had the result of pulling more hours per night than I had planned. So, to say that I'm currently surviving on Dr. Pepper is not far from the truth.

My brain is on automatic right now. I finished the video at 4:30 this morning, quickly reviewed it and hit the hay around 5. While my plan of getting to bed by at least midnight didn't come to pass, I am at least happy that I have a three day weekend coming up. Sleep can wait until then...

You know, apart from some bad narration (provided by a sleepy yours truly), I am extremely proud of the finished project. I created a shortened version of the video (minus the final section where people are giving my dad their personal greetings and farewells) to present, which runs all of thirty minutes. Precisely.

Alright, if you include credits, tack on another minute or so, but still it amuses me that I managed to hit 30 minutes of content right on the nose. It runs longer than the original 20 I had thought I would have, but it isn't the complete 50 minute deal that would result from tacking on the final section. Still, it is done and it is awesome.

I plan on creating another version for Dad's birthday next month, including the farewells and well wishes. When it hit 4:30, I just knew that there was no way in hell that I'd ever manage to get the longer version finished unless I skipped out on sleep altogether.

And you know something... I'm ok with that.

Just got off the phone with the lady in charge of the retirement dinner. I'm supposed to go on stage after Dad. He's elected to say a few words, call it his farewell address if you'd like.

After Dad's finished, the dean will introduce me in some way and then... *gulp* ...I'm on. I don't have a formal speech prepared since I tend to speak easier when I'm not encumbered by typed out talking points and so on.

It'll be easy and difficult at the same time. For one, I know the subject very well. Better now, in fact, since I've had a chance to delve into his workplace a bit and gain more of a broader perspective. That's the easy part.

The hard part will be the sad realization that once today has passed, I won't know what to do with myself. Heh.

Seriously though, that is a point I'd like to make about how it feels to work on something, pour your heart and soul into it, finish it and then... Now, what?

I've been eating, breathing and sleeping little more than this project for the entire summer. I've met tons of interesting people, learned way more than I ever thought was possible about Dad's career and have had a lot of fun slinking about playing investigative reporter. I live for video projects like this.

Still, like my dad, I soon will turn out the lights on a chapter of my life and seek out new adventures with the knowledge of a job well done. How neat is that?

HA! HA! It's Worth Twenty Bucks...

I walked outside the rotating black darkroom door that seperates my humble video editing cave from the rest of humanity. The room directly adjacent to mine is the recently installed frame shop which is responsible for the framing of customers' pictures, portraits and posters.

I noticed one of my co-workers hovering over the framing table and I stopped to say hello...

"Hey, Jen, what are you up to?"

"Just finished mounting Old Hickory," Jen replied as she giggled a bit at her own comment.

I chuckled a bit as I noticed a nearby co-worker glancing at us in confusion.

"Oh? Does your boyfriend know about this?" I asked, unable to resist.

The co-worker sticks his head in. A nosy type, I wasn't the least bit suprised when he asked, "Whoa, Jen, did y'all break up? Who or what's Old Hickory?"

Jen and I both break into laughter as Jen holds up the newly framed picture of President Andrew Jackson...

All These Worlds Are Yours Except Europa...

Eat it, ET doubters.

It'll be interesting to see how many more worlds we find that support water. There is a theory that Jupiter's moon Europa may indeed harbour a vast under-ice sea. There is a proposal to head to Europa to find out. Should be interesting to find whether or not such a sea does exist beneath Europa's ice sheet.

And if there is any life therin...

This Is The Water, The Emerald Of Our Land...

Saint Patrick was a gentleman,

Who through strategy and stealth,

Drove all the snakes from Ireland,

Here’s a toasting to his health.

But not too many toastings

Lest you lose yourself and then

Forget the good Saint Patrick

And see all those snakes again.

-Traditional St. Patrick's toast

A whole lot of this...

Plus a little bit of this...

Equals a whole lot of foolish behaviour...

Spent Saturday celebrating the Irish part of my heritage...

Spent Sunday in recovery. Happy St. Pat's, now pass the
Advil...

Birthday Goodness Post...

Now, this is sweet. --------}
I want to thank my good pal Trystera for this photoshopped happy fun time picture meshing our characters with those of Homestar Runner's! How cool is that?

VERY! And don't ye be forgetting it, lads & lasses. :)

I'd like to also thank W, BA & everyone for their happy fun time greetings! It was a lovely day to roll another digit on the odometer and I thank YOU for making it just that much more spiffy!

Got The Car, Petrol's Cheap...

The Boss actually had the gall to ask me if I'd like to pull extra
hours this week and come in tomorrow.

Hell, no.

Someone asked if I'd be interested in shooting a video tomorrow.

Hell, no.

Someone asked if I could fix their computer tomorrow.

Hell, no.

Someone had the gall to ask if I'd like to do all their crap favors
for them tomorrow.

Oh, HELL, no.

Then, someone asked if I wanted to piss away the entire day doing
whatever I wanted.

You're gorram right I do. It's MY GORRAM birthday today! Happy birthday, me!

<i>Here's $20 to piss away on hookers and blow, I mean, uh, to invest
wisely for a safe and secure future!</i>

Gee, thanks, me! How generous of you!

<i>Now, get your drunk ass to bed. Decent people are trying to sleep!</i>

10-4, good buddy! Woooooooooo!

----

And you wonder why I don't post things when I'm smashed...

Yes, 3/8 is indeed my birthday and I plan to squander it as best as I
can. I've always been a believer in making the most of one's
birthday. It is, after all, YOUR day to do with as you will.

That means...

Don't go to work. Unless you have a position that is vital to the
security of this country or something, take the day off.

You may feel responsible by going in, but you are missing a prime
opportunity to do WHATEVER you want. Seriously.

You can use this day to...

Run amuck.
Go shopping.
Watch what YOU want on your TV.
Eat WHATEVER and WHEREVER you want.
Run amuck again!
Behave like a complete and utter jackass!
EAT CAKE!
Whatever you want to do (well, within reason. Jail is scary.).

So, why the hell would you want to go to work instead?

Fuck that.

Take a day off and go play. It's YOUR day, kids. Why waste YOUR day
doing YOUR job?

Exactly. When I am ruler of my own company, I shall pass a decree
that birthdays are sacred and will provide and encourage the
opportunity for employees to take their day off. One paid "get out of
work" free card, so to speak.

It's really a brilliant idea when you think about it.

Ok, time to stop ranting under the influence of alcohol and time to go
watch some TV until I fall asleep! After all, more shenanigans await
tomorrow!

Can You Hear Me?

I can show you
That when it starts to rain
Everything's the same...

-The Beatles, Rain

On the day that rain returned to Texas, I found myself almost successfully suppressing the urge to dance in it.

I dressed, took the Golden Retriever out for her morning constitutional and walked slowly to my car. I walked slowly to feel the rain dance on my skin, to feel each blob of dihydrogen oxide impact on my hair with a rather ungraceful splatter.

I stood before the car and stared upward into the sky, admiring the simple beauty of nature's smattering of grayscale artistry. Neighbors around me darted to their cars and houses as quickly as they were able. Not three days ago, I talked with one of them about how they wished that the rain would return.

Rain brings a welcome break from the Texas heat. Rain brings life to grass that has been dying a slow, painful death during the heat of July and August. Rain increases the flow and volume of the area's lakes and streams. Rain restores hope to farmers who had just about given up.

Rain equals life's careful balance at its finest.

I lingered a bit longer, letting the rain soak into my shirt. I welcomed the coldness of precipitation. It caressed my face, depositing gentle and frequent kisses on it like those from a lover long separated from.

"I missed you," I whispered into the rain, "What took you so long to come back to me?"

The rain didn't answer back, just kept kissing me with a gentle intensity. Expecting an answer from the rain always leaves one unfulfilled.

"That's ok, ol' girl, you don't have to explain anything to me," I smiled as I tilted my head skyward to let the rain kiss my neck, "you're always welcome here."

I stood there for few more minutes before I finally permitted myself the privilege of dancing a short jig to celebrate the day rain returned to Texas.

Not back on it, Joe, still on it.

Almost six years ago, I met Katy in a parking lot in front of a Houston Petsmart.

I was working in Houston for the summer and just happened to pass by on the way back from lunch. Not sure what possessed me, but I stopped to look at the puppies that were playing and sleeping behind temporary chicken-wired fences beneath a shady oak.

There were three different fences, each containing a group of puppies sorted by breed. The first group were beagles and since I had grown up with a beagle-type dog as a child, I spent a goodly amount of time playing with them before I even looked at the other breeds.

I had wanted a dog of my own for quite a while, especially now that I had my own place and the beloved beagle mix that I had grown up with really belonged to my folks and one of my brothers. I have to admit, I was rather biased towards the familiar.

Then, my eye caught the glance of one of the puppies in the adjoining pens. The puppy laid there, head on its paws, with an expression that practically screamed, "when are you going to come play with me?!?"

I regarded the puppy for a few moments. It had the sweetest brown eyes that contained a glint that said, "I'm a little mischievious, but I swear to God that I'll love you more than the air that fills my little puppy lungs."

I stood up and its eyes seemed to follow me as I approached its pen. I am reminded of Anne McCaffrey's concept of Impression, where you look into the eyes of of the freshly hatched dragon and you are paired for life, except that the 'dragon' I was staring at was a baby female Golden Retriever.

I picked her up and began to scratch her behind the ears. The puppy closed her eyes and leaned into my hand, almost cherishing each stroke. I sat down beneath the tree and began to pet her and say various things that people seem to say to puppies or kittens that they deem adorable.

She yawned sleepily and began to curl up into my lap. The breeder noticed that this puppy seemed to have taken quite the shine to me and smiled. "I think she's found herself a friend," she chuckled knowingly.

"I wish," I replied, "I don't know if my apartment will allow big dogs or not."

The breeder considered this for a moment before asking, "Well, when's your lease up?"

"Three months," I mumbled as the puppy closed her eyes and yawned again. I couldn't decide if this cuteness was something that the breeder had taught her puppies, or if the particular one I was holding was using her little puppy wiles on me just because I'm a sucker for things cute and adorable.

"Well, I suppose there are other places that would be more big dog friendly, huh?" the breeder grinned. She could tell that I was going to have a hard time letting this one go.

I thought about my situation for a moment. The place I was living in at the time was indeed a hovel and not really the type of place that I imagined living in beyond my lease. A temporary stop between Points A & B, I suppose.

But a Golden?

Those cute puppies grow up to become cute biggie-sized dogs. How could I possibly think that I could manage a big dog? In an apartment?

"Well, I could get off my lazy ass more and go for walks," I chastised myself as I regarded my slowly expanding waistline, "A Golden would be good for getting me out of the house..."

Just then, the puppy put the icing on the cake as she burrowed deeper into my stomach and gave this little sigh. That sigh wasn't just one of content, it was one that said, "Can we go now, Dad?"

Awwww, damnit...

I became the proud owner of Katy, who quickly became my best four-legged friend. While we may not always see eye to eye on matters of behaviour and whom exactly that steak on the counter belongs to, I wouldn't trade my Golden pal for anything.

We've been together through some tough times, some good times, and a lot of times either playing in the water, playing fetch for hours at a time or just falling asleep watching TV.

While I've been through some personal crises of past years, she's been there to see me through. If the loyalty of a dog counts for something, then mine deserves a metric tonne o' cash.

We've been through a lot together and have moved to different places over the years. As we prepare to move again, I'm glad that she's with me. I wouldn't have it any other way.