Intense love doesn't matter, it only gives‐ Mother Teresa Before he was interred yesterday, MacDuff took his last motorcycle ride. Although he would have preferred to ride on the back of the Honda, circumstances obviously dictated that he ride in the sidecar; the throne on the back was occupied by none other than the Queen herself. We took the same circuitous route that we have taken without issue hundreds if not thousands of times without…

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help- Psalms 121 Today, Nama and I headed north into the Ozarks to see where this trip would take us. But first we made a quick stop at an animal shelter to check out a dog that numerous people had forwarded me. Although he was a beautiful black dog, his mind was clearly elsewhere, and there was absolutely no connection; not a…

Intense love doesn't matter, it only gives‐ Mother Teresa Before he was interred yesterday, MacDuff took his last motorcycle ride. Although he would have preferred to ride on the back of the Honda, circumstances obviously dictated that he ride in the sidecar; the throne on the back was occupied by none other that the Queen herself. We took the same circuitous route that we have taken without issue hundreds if not thousands of times without…

MacDuff is gone. I have lost many dogs over a lifetime of following the Dog Star, but I don't remember ever feeling this lost. The Duff was the first dog that I ever remember consciously hoping that would outlive me, because I knew the pain of losing him would be greater than the pain of someone else having to explain to his predecessors where Dad went... if that makes any sense at all. I will…

Yo, Dad! Whassup, MacDuff? Where are we going, and where are the other dogs? And why aren't we on the motorcycle? You really don't remember what day it is, do you? This is your "Gotcha" day; it was two years ago today that I found you down on the River Trail. I figured that you and I would take a little trip together back to the place we first met; you know, for old times…

It's been a little over two weeks since a tiny white puppy began to exert her dominance at the Casa del Whackos. Usually by this time, most of the previous inmates have had a chance to fill me in on their backstory: Charlie's life in her crate, Bull Taco's career as a drug runner for his familia's cartel, MacDuff's journeys in search of a name, and so on. But not Nama. I'm thinking that, at…

Yo; I’m Titus Pullo. You, know, THAT Titus. Dad named me after the good natured but deadly centurion, one of only two soldiers mentioned by Julius Caesar in his official memoirs. But Dad missed it on this one; he’s usually pretty ace on naming the inmates, but there’s not a martial bone in my body, Roman or otherwise. If he had looked past my formidable appearance and into the foggy recesses of my brain, he…