Rare photos

Bill and I got home from the party around 11 p.m. on Sat. night. Lucky, Dave and Erin's large Lab mix, and Grant's Corgi had been left alone in the house and - surprisingly and pleasantly - the house was still in one piece. We had put Mojo in his cage in our bedroom with the door shut because 2's company and 3's a crowd, and when we released him the dogapalooza began. It was wilder than the Frank Sinatra party, and since that was the first time it had been held in conservative Wmson. Co., i.e. not Nashville, I was willing to bet that the kids would come home and tell me that the cops had made a visit to their party. After all, there were tons of people there who were all destined for inebriation. Maybe it was the loud sounds of Frank Sinatra - and not something like Coldplay - music coming from the house that confused the neighbors. At any rate, my kids drove in at the (un)reasonable hour of 4:30 a.m., which was better than not at all. Magi, Lucky, and I were very happy. Bill, of course, was asleep.

• But, back to releasing Mojo, who knew his two dog friends were in his house. He may be the smallest dog and the youngest dog, but he's definitely - I'm sorry to say - the biggest pain in the behind. He picks on Lucky constantly. Lucky - bless his heart - never gives ground, but never shows aggression either. He's about 4 times as big as Mojo after all. Mojo dogged Lucky and Magi till we were exhausted from trying to be the alpha dogs.

• Anyway, by midnight, we were ready for bed and a doggy tranquilizer for Mojo. Which we don't have. So, we just turned out the lights and had to listen to him to whine for about half an hour before he gave up. And he never whines when we put him to bed. But, again, his friends (one at a time) were still outside that bedroom door, no doubt having fun without him. What a "tail" of woe.

• The next morning Dave made scrambled eggs and English muffins for us (don't know what this is about, but when trying to wake up Erin, first he calls out, "Isabella" and then "Trixie"). Grant and Magi left by 11 a.m. as he had an appt. to talk to his pastor, and Dave and Erin stayed and we talked till about 1 p.m.

So, all in all, a groovy birthday. I try to never brag. Not that I have anything to brag about any more. But, I'm setting this down in print so that if I read this when I'm 81, I'll say, whoa, man, cool. I can't tell you how many of the "boys" and "girls" at the party told me I looked good. I hadn't felt that good about myself in years. When I'm 81 I might just read this and think how self-indulgent this post was, but for today I just think what a birthday gift that was. :-)