Everything is temporary. Neil Young taught me that a few years after I should have figured it out for myself. Everything being temporary, anything is possible. Patti Smith took me there. There is lots more to philosophy than that but who the fuck cares?
My dog has always had to be coaxed onto the bed. You would think she had been trained to stay off the bed by her breeder before we bought her and took her home. At least you might think that if you had not seen her jump up onto the dinner table and start eating from our plates the first night we had her in the house. Her breeder did not teach her motherfuck all.
Lately though she has begun gently jumping onto the bed when I am laying there by myself just about going to sleep. (Early morning sawmill worker me is passed out cold long before Sonja most nights.) Lies on the the bed the same way every time too: her head near my feet. Good thing she does not fart as much or as bad as most dogs do.
That would make it me, Dan Russell and my dog. An unlikely threesome.
The Hammer is enjoying the prime of her life, much as I am. Hopefully we will both keep running hard as we leave the backstretch and eye the inevitable wire. Anything is possible, motherfuckers.
Except the Canucks winning The Cup. So just calm the fuck down.
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