Recognizing Limitations

As I bemoaned just recently, that while the companion dogs we love in every Quarter die much too soon, their loss later in life may have a different meaning. I am pleased to share, though, that GuntherDog seems to be ambulating better, today, and even running a bit. All this is happening at the same time that I am, for the first time, closing my office on Fridays. The Old Workhorse who thought nothing of leaving the stables 6+ days each week now is committed to three-day each week pasturing ... just grazin' on grass and sittin' on m'ass (and maybe writing a bit more and ... and Playing in this Last Quarter).

Years ago, I knew the day was coming ... and wrote (1998?)


Thoughts of Leaving Someday
From ditties et lettre
du Abe Isaacs
Six bookcases lining the wall and filled on the inside with jacketed books and above with two philodendrons (one split-leafed), two sansevieria that bloom every third year or so, an old microscope, test tubes on a rack, an oak bowling pin, a bulb that he found on the beach. On another wall is a glazed bookcase from his grandfather — a shaman of a different ilk — that one filled with sacred books in no-longer-spoken languages. Hanging are diplomas and certificates and pictures of der Alte Hexenmeister from Vienna. There are, as well, five chairs, a desk, an Edwardian fainting couch and an awareness that he will and must leave this office some day.

The Last Quarter is not only about losing functionality but about the opportunity to Play with grandspawn, hang out with Lady M, run (well, jog) with GuntherDog and spend more time with RI, my 1974 Raleigh International, who has been calling out to me for some time, now. RI turns 40 next year.

Bye ... I'm off, today.