Enjoyed being with you at the canal near your mom's house, Enjoyed the poem also. Or should I have just said, "WOOF!", being a humble servant of the waters of life?
Lots of memories there Jonathan. I can picture you rescuing Frank from the canal. Going through fifty years of “stuff” is no easy task. My sister and I did it for my mom.
I loved your story about Frank. My childhood dog— a wire fox terrier named Winnie—would do the same thing. If we were not careful when opening the door, he would bolt, as if shot from a cannon, and we would chase him all over town in the family car! Somehow, I always remember it being in a rain storm. Great poem, Jonathan—it’s an honor to be compared to Frank. He sounds pretty zesty!
Enjoyed being with you at the canal near your mom's house, Enjoyed the poem also. Or should I have just said, "WOOF!", being a humble servant of the waters of life?
Lots of memories there Jonathan. I can picture you rescuing Frank from the canal. Going through fifty years of “stuff” is no easy task. My sister and I did it for my mom.
Thank you for commenting, Monica. Sorry I haven't been very responsive of late.
I loved your story about Frank. My childhood dog— a wire fox terrier named Winnie—would do the same thing. If we were not careful when opening the door, he would bolt, as if shot from a cannon, and we would chase him all over town in the family car! Somehow, I always remember it being in a rain storm. Great poem, Jonathan—it’s an honor to be compared to Frank. He sounds pretty zesty!