The Thing about Dogs

When we first moved to Idaho Falls in the late 80's, the first thing I felt unbearable was not having a dog.

We had had an English Springer Spaniel since May of 1971. It was a dog I truly loved.

Then we bought several Blue Heelers. They were not only faithful, but the two of them also became quite protective in spite of their small size.

After being in Idaho Falls for less than a month, I found a sign on the wall of a neighborhood grocery store advertising Springer pups.

I immediately bought one. We didn't have a lot of money at the time, so the $100 was a bit of a hardship, but we did it anyway. We had a doghouse outside, so everything went well, and it went that way for 13 years. Then one night, I heard the dog outside making horrible noises. Without a doubt, having a vet put that dog down was truly one of the worst moments I have ever experienced.

My wife hated watching me that night, broken-hearted over the loss of that dog. A few years passed. One morning at Rigby High, one of the staff members dropped in with an English Bulldog pup.

I loved the dog. I would never have thought, that I would have taken to another pup so quickly, but I did.

That night, I told Ann about the whole thing. She was not thrilled about the idea, especially at the thought of having a dog inside, in spite of the fact that once when our Springer had been sick as a pup, she had suggested making him an inside dog.

In the guise of going to the mall, I took Ann to the pet shop, where the staff member and her husband operated a small business. Ann fussed over the dog a bit, but she began this mantra: "We're not buying a dog."


Then the owner placed the little pup in my wife's arms, and he licked Ann on the face. When we climbed into the car, Ann began talking about how we had to have the dog.

We brought him home during Christmas break, and I spent the entire vacation cradling that pup in my arms.

His name was Guido Maximus.

The first bulldog I ever experienced was one we saw at Mack's Inn in Island Park.
Ann and I were first married, and a family was there with the dog. When I told my father how we should get one, he asked why.

My father loved dogs, but his approach was a neo-pragmatic one. "Why would we want one?" he asked.

"He can't hunt." My dad didn't even consider it. The dog either had to hunt or help chase cows. There was not thinking about anything like that, and as for having a dog inside a house, that just wouldn't happen.

Then we had this encounter, over 20 years after I saw that dog in Island Park. He became an instant companion. He played with us. In fact, the dog loved to wrestle with me on the floor, running furiously in circles around the room getting momentum before jumping into my arms and pushing me to the floor. I still remember house guests laughing about the dog.

He had a few things that were annoying. From the time he was a pup, he had a shedding problem: something that some of his breed have. Others don't. It's not a universal thing.

However, he snored, he passed gas. It was like having a reincarnated version of my fourth grade teacher in our home, except for the fact, that I really loved that dog.

One thing I remember is that he also had another annoying personality trait. He fell in love with people's legs, gripping them with his front paws and doing that horrific "red-neck dog thing."

When Cles first brought Leslie to our house around that time, we had Guido. Cles would take him outside, and the dog would--in the words of my son--do that "damn thing" again.

Finally one day, Cles and Leslie, our future daughter-in-law sat in our house.

"Dad, why does he do that?" Cles seemed perplexed and annoyed.

I looked at him for a moment before answering. "It's because you're so damn cute," I said.

I still remember how Leslie laughed at that. I remind Cles of it from time to time.

It's stories like this that make memories. Guido was a great dog.

I cried when I had to give him to another family because of my fight against cancer. I couldn't risk the infection, that I might get from a scratch or anything else. Guido was another example of a great dog. He loved us, and we loved him as well.

And 2011 was a great year, because we finally were able to get another bulldog. My grandson named him Zero. It's kind of cute really, a character in one of my grandson's favorite movies was Jack, and his dog was Zero. It makes sense really, in spite of the fact that I wanted to have a few other options.

It's better this way. My grandson will have the same connection with dogs, that I grew to love and appreciate.

The Curse of the Quaking Aspen

Having loved the mountains all my life, I found there was only one other thing that could have a similar effect on me, and that was the sound of water.

There were multiple ways of imagining the sound of water.

That's what you do when you grow up on a dry farm in desert country.

Massive poplar trees with their leaves in summer were a substitute. When I was young and had never heard the ocean, I decided that ocean waves had to sound something like that. It's not an adequate way to hear the tide, but it works when you are in high plains desert, where trees grow if you water them.

Although the real thing is much louder and more inspiring, the sound of wind blowing through those poplars still works, if I shut my eyes. The sight of green wheat--just weeks away from beginning to turn golden--gives a visual image. These were things that satisfied my yearning, until I saw the real thing.

Quaking Aspen were something else entirely, their sound was more like the drizzle of a spring rain or the song of a mountain stream. I loved haring the sound too, so when we moved into our new house, I had to have several small groves in the front, side and back. Poplars were out of the question. They have too many leaves that turn orange and gold and yellow. Yea, they have a great sound in summer, but raking leaves does not offset the silver lining I loved to hear.

I loved the "quakies," until I began having trouble with my sprinklers. It began simply, a $100 or a bit more repair each spring, but when I was sick in '03, it was a time when we didn't have a lot of money.

The bill that year for sprinkler repair was $400. Those doing the repair said that the next year's news would be two or three times as bad. The common root system of the trees in the three different small groves became a web beneath the ground, wrapping and constricting the water pipes. Pipes burst; sprinkler heads shattered. Entire sections had to have major repair. It was not a difficult decision.

I miss the trees, but I don't regret having to have someone remove them. The removal was $750, which is much cheaper than replacement of the entire sprinkler system the next year.

These photographs are what happened just after the removal and work in the yard to cover up stumps and other odds and ends.

Besides, the trees are much finer to see in their natural surroundings with songbirds and the scent of wildflowers.

Disneyland

For me, the park was a special place, and after all these years, it remains a favorite spot.

It's because I think of things my own children enjoyed, so when I look at the faces of my grandchildren, I see that same joy.

I see the fun they have with their mom and dad, creating moments with their own family like I did with mine all those years ago.

The rides change, but most things remain to help you remember.

Not a trip goes by that I don't sit at the gate and enjoy the music they play. It helps me enjoy the beautiful Southern California weather, especially when my laptop tells me that drifting snow and ice haunt everyone in the Snake River Vally at any given time we are basking in the sunshine.

The time comes when children look at these photographs, and they remember little things. Sometimes it's from other trips there, but what is most important is the fact that you were together for a brief time having fun, laughing and enjoying special moments.

I don't know what it is, but with very few exceptions, something happens during the trip that can always potentially spoil the fun.

Sometimes I give in to the moment, and I get angry for a while.

Disney employees run the park like some people play boardgames--making the rules up as they go along.

It's frustrating, but that's why it's also an added benefit to have looked at a laptop before entering the park.

It gives you something to think about, something to be grateful for at that very moment in time.

Because when it comes to the end of any trip I've ever taken there, I immediately begin coaxing to go one more day. Sometimes everyone gives way to my obsession. We spend another day doing the rides, eating the churros, watching for Disney characters.

No doubt about it, it's a place that is fun to experience.

Finding Old Pictures

Discovering old pictures is like finding buried treasure.

From the time Jack was a baby, one of his favorite foods was spaghetti. I've forgotten now how he called it, but it was something he enjoyed, and his passion for it is something he shared--on his face, in his hair, upon the floor.

That's the thing about being a grandparent. You really don't care about that. It's that sparkle in their eye, the passion they have for something they truly enjoy, and it's not because you didn't experience it, but it's because you forgotten how to enjoy something like that.

During one visit to Chapel Hill, North Carolina to visit Cles and Leslie, they laughed at Jack and the whole notion of his eating with his hands, but they also noticed how much he enjoyed the Italian dish.

Leslie's mom and dad arrived, and we all went to a restaurant. Jack ordered spaghetti.

At first, I think her parents were horrified at the scene, but they noticed what everyone else did: a little boy so involved in something, so passionate about something, that it was truly magical.

You wouldn't think that pasta all over a young boy's face would be like that, but it was, and we still smile at the memory.

Finding these pictures made it even more fun, because I relived the joy that we felt at that moment, and more importantly, we thought about other things we did during that trip to North Carolina.

Looking at pictures like this make you realize, that you often relive everything vicariously, and it's a good thing too, because old people with spaghetti on their face and in their hair is a sordid thing--not as weird as some things you see old people do, but it would make the top ten list on the Letterman show.

The pictures remind me of Leslie catching fireflies in her cupped hands for Jack in the evening. After shaking them, she would release them. The small light flew upward. "Tink!" Jack thought immediately of Peter Pan, one of his favorite Disney moments, because Disney moments are what we did during those early years, just as often as possible.

Although we took Jack and Tommy to Disneyland, when they were one, this trip is where Jack seemed to notice things, and in a strange way, I think he remembered the earlier trip.

This picture is a valuable one. While fighting my leukemia, Ann was concerned. My oncologist and friend told me that I had two weeks to two months, slowly I began making improvements, but he was still worried.

One day Ann told me that we needed to get away and go somewhere. Sun Valley came to mind, but when she asked me, I asked to for a trip to Disneyland. Jack and Kristin came along. It was a magical trip, maybe because you see the magic, when life is so fragile.

My doctor laughed when I told him initially about my desire to visit Disneyland. After our return home, he asked me what we did there. I think he expected me to say I sat in a wheel chair and listened to music and enjoyed the weather. His face completely changed when I mentioned Tower of Terror and the Indian Jones ride and Matterhorn. He laughed.

I miss hearing my old friend's laugh. He called me an eternal child. It's not such a bad thing, as long as I keep the spaghetti off my face in restaurants.

It's How Life Happens

At the time, you always wish for the future--thinking how much better things will be at some point, when children are no longer a concern, that you seem to worry about day and night, when money is no longer a worry, that you seem to worry about day and night, when dreams, that you hope to see somehow appear.

In the first place, dreams don't appear like that, except in Disney animated films of the past. Then there is the thing about children. You never stop worrying. And then suddenly, they have children, and you worry about them.

We won't talk about money. Only Donald Trump seems to have a way of having everything he wants in terms of materialistic things.

Nothing is worth that bad hair cut.

Besides, if I had to change anything, I wouldn't. I came to a conclusion some time ago, that if I did, somehow things wouldn't be the same now.

Paradise is having a woman by your side you truly love and how truly loves you. Paradise is having grandchildren, whose eyes show the love they feel for you.

So when I see these pictures, my only regret is not enjoying every moment. We took them on a Sunday morning.

Our meetings didn't happen until later at that time, and I remember this Sunday. Our dog began barking ferociously. The English Springer we had seldom did that. He howled when sirens began, and that happened occasionally, given the fact a fire station was not far away.

Ann went outside, and in the top picture you could see the hot air balloons some people had. For whatever reason, they landed in the fields near our house. At that time, there were not a lot of homes in the area, so there was a large field near us, that didn't have any crops to be damaged.

It was a beautiful day. It remains an incredible memory.

I wish I had enjoyed it, like I enjoy every second of life now.

Volunteer Work

I can finally write about a situation. A few years ago, a former supervisor and friend at the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington D.C. called me.

I had finished the fight with cancer, and everything seemed to be going alright, although there were numerous medical issues connected to the chemo therapy.

This friend was very excited. "I've really got something for you," he said. "It seems to fit retired teachers with something still to offer." He told me how much he appreciated my presentations and my work in the years before my retirement.

During the very first meeting, I decided I would walk as much as possible to get my legs moving again.

That was not a good choice. I was a terrible color, and when I arrived at the museum for meetings, everyone could tell that pain was an issue as well.

To be honest, the new person, who supervised the group, feared I would have a heart attack during meetings or during any presentations I gave to teachers and students.

However, it was an incredible opportunity. I don't regret having done it now, because I always felt that teaching students about the Holocaust was vitally necessary in today's world--not just because they needed to know what happened, but also because I wanted them to understand how important it was to avoid making mistakes, that cultures made in the past: decisions that resulted in nations participating in genocide, either as bystanders or perpetrators.

I did workshops. The first one was a bust. Technology problems with a video link didn't work. The weather was very bad, and the tech people in Arizona never were able to connect to the live discussions in Washington D.C. It was the longest day of my life, but what can you say about Flagstaff, Arizona. I was never a fan of that state anyway, and that part of the state was really not something I enjoyed.

A workshop in North Dakota went very well. Everyone expected 25 participants. There were well over 80 there, and that was during early summer, when a major storm hit the area with high winds, heavy rain, and those crazy situations that pull up trees and damage houses in a minor way.

Another one in Reno went very well. That was my last workshop.

There is, however, one thing I didn't mention. The friendships I encountered while doing that work is so important, and I miss working with them. But I don't miss the meetings, except when my old friend would occasionally drop in to see everyone.

Times change. It's my time to enjoy life and spend it with wife, children and grandchildren. Life is too precious, and experience teaches me the same lesson every day: I can never spend enough time with family.

A grandparent can really make a difference. But it's more than that. I want each of my grandchildren to remember me. Nothing is more important than that. When they are old, I want to remember how I loved Disneyland, how I howled like a wolf, how I tickled them until they couldn't stand it any longer.

It's what you do when you're a Pop Pop.

A Call From Tommy (With Sammy Squealing In The Background and Anna Talking About The Pooh Ride With Sammy)

Tommy's voice was so excited this morning, when I answered the phone. I knew they had been on their way to Southern California to visit Disneyland. Tommy told me how he could see The Matterhorn and Tower of Terror.

It's something i did with Tommy and Jack and Anna every time we went there with them together. It was a way of calming them a bit. "Who can be the first one to see the Matterhorn or The Tower of Terror." It always worked.

Tommy told about their agenda: Pirates was to be the first ride, eventually going to Jungle Cruise. And then he added this: "Oh yea, we'll go on Haunted Mansion." The boys never liked that ride, and it was a while before Jack enjoyed it. In fact, Jack hated the ride, until Nightmare before Christmas came in theaters.

It's a movie he loves. He even insisted on naming his dog Zero.

Anna, usually so quiet and shy was also talking loudly and laughing with Sammy. When Anna asked Sammy if she wanted to go to Pooh, Sammy's response was interesting. Her little voice made a quick response to something she thought was disgusting. Sammy obviously didn't understand that Pooh was a ride and not something you do each morning.

When Anna was Sammy's age, she loved the ride, and she coaxed to return continually. She did it in a fun way. "I wanna go Pooh," she would say. The reaction of people in the park was interesting. Some would jump out of the way, as if the act were like projectile spewing or something. It made me laugh. It still makes me laugh.

Before the end of the day, Sammy will understand.

"We got Three Day Hoppers," Tommy said proudly. He talked about how they would work their way to California Adventure and go to Soarin'. "And then we'll go on that Grizzly Bear ride," he said excitedly.

"You mean Grizzly Rapids?"Tommy answered me quickly, and I could tell he was absorbing all the sights I also loved--palm trees, flowers in bloom, trees with leaves. These are things you appreciate, when you live where snow falls until June.

"Yea, Tower of Terror. We'll do that one, and then we'll do Tower of Terror and .  .  .  Oh, we'll do Soarin' on the way too."

There was also no question about getting a churro. It's a tradition we discovered in the early days of taking Tommy to the park.

There is no doubt about our experience at Disneyland. It a place with fun memories, not only those with children but grandchildren too.

There won't be any pictures on this blog until Lydia sends them in the next few days.

The top one is something she sent earlier today. I just found it. It's what I call a role reversal. Lydia squeals like a little girl. Anna looks calm, in spite of her hair showing the speed and twist of the ride. Anthony, an old family friend and his family, were also there.

I makes we wish we could have made the visit. But that's what happens, when you get a new pup for Christmas.

The picture at the right shows my two granddaughters, the only ones so far, enjoying a moment of refreshment: Anna with a healthy choice of juice and Sammy sipping her mom's Diet Coke, which she has done for some time now.

She usually grabs the cup with a "death grip" and takes a long sip. Sammy then looks up, eyes sparkling and mouth open wide. "Ahhh," she exclaims both loudly and passionately.

It's yet another thing that makes grandchildren so much fun. Each one has their quirks, their little funny things that make me smile. It's a time when quirks are cute. I have them, buy my Annie says they just make me weird. It's what happens when you become an old fart, besides the rug of hair on your chest and back and the masses of beard that appear in your ears and nose.

The universal question is "Why?" You would think that hair would grow in a spot, where it would be best, but it is the ultimate proof that our Supreme Being has a sense of humor.

The final picture is like every picture we took of all four grandchildren, an instant classic.

Sammy waits to meet Pluto, who stands with someone else in the background. As I remember, this was also a small spot in the park to get a meal, but it was a bit more secluded--a bit more comfortable.

The only thing I heard about the trip at this point was that the park was crowded.

This makes this spot necessary.

But crowded or not, every trip is a special one.

Sith Happens!

When Jack was very young, I told him stories. For his nap, I would tell a "Disneyland" story and one Star Wars story. Within a year, he would make up his own, and on days, when I felt poorly, he would reverse roles.

Jack told the story. Pop Pop took the nap.

To make a long story short, I told him stories to get him calm before his afternoon nap, and again before he fell asleep at night.

During the summer of 2011, we made the trip to Disneyland. it was something we looked forward to this year. Disney reopened Star Tours, and the Lukas "bunch" put everything together.

On the first day of the grand opening, a group from Lukas was at Disneyland. We ran into them on one of the rides, and while waiting, Jack struck up a conversation with them.

They were very impressed with his knowledge of the films, but most importantly, they loved his ideas. He began telling them a story, and as he finished, he reminded them that he would have them work on his movie, when he made it.

The crew didn't hesitate. They expressed the enthusiasm for the chance to work with them. I laughed briefly, and then I noticed two things: first, they were serious, and secondly, I remembered that both Spielberg and Lukas began doing films at an early age.

The small picture is an example of the stories Jack would write, but in most cases it was a short storyboard. This time, however, Jack confused the letters and slipped with the word representing the evil side of those serving the dark side of the force. We laughed when he noticed he had written these words: Revenge of The Shit. Jack was mortified. It shows his innocence, his determination to do all things right, his avoidance of profanity.

It's Jack, who gets after Pop Pop and Gramma for using that very word when we drive or when we drop something or when something goes awry during the course of the day.

Even though it is something that we recognized as a mistake by our little grandson, we also recognized how fun it was to see it and keep it for future years. It's another thing about our Jack, that makes us smile.

A Few Thoughts On This Last Day Of 2011

I took a group to Germany, one of the last I did in my hometown, and during the trip, two students were drunk at an activity. I sent them home. Berlin was a city, where it was not hard to find trouble, if a student looked for it, yet at the same time, they found plenty in the tiny town of Malad, which is no surprise. I grew up there too.

I'm not sure if it happens to all families, but mine tends to have years, where everything goes "weird." In the 80's, for example, I totaled two cars in two accidents, where students of mine T-boned my in accidents that could have been very serious. In both cases, the cars were rendered "a done deal." The last one was a situation, where it bent the frame of the car.
I had a lump appear on my left knee. Surgery was necessary.

Before a trip to Germany, I helped my dad assemble a spray rig to be placed in the back of our pick-up truck. As I hurriedly walked around one corner, the sunlight was just right, and I walked into a section. A sharp point punctured skin one-sixteenth of an inch above and below one eye. The wound was quite deep, and I needed stitches.


Doctors diagnosed my father's cancer.

It gets worse. One of those students was my nephew.

Our family had a difficult time with the decision that happened that year. An administrator forced me to adopt an impossible policy, one that was so forceful and strict, that I believe it actually made students more apt to make poor decisions. Sometimes people do things out of spite.

I was a fool. The school board liked the way I handled things previously, and they didn't want the new idea I felt forced to adopt. Things are sometimes not what they seem.


On the positive side, had I not made a move in '88 to the Idaho Falls area with my family, everything would have been different for us. There were so many opportunities for us to experience in the Idaho Falls area. Chances for Ann and for me to develop professionally.

You never know what will happen.

I'm not going to go into specifics about how horrible 2011 has been, other than I will say that Ann and I have had health issues--not serious ones as in the past, but nonetheless, they were significant.

Then my mother had a severe stroke. That has numerous complications as well. My sisters and I are at a crossroad. It's one, where everyone has understand what is most important, or better said, who is most important.

The rest of my family had difficult times too. It was not a good year. It was one full of car accidents and other horrible situations, that affected a niece and a nephew.

So on the Eve of 2012, I sit here and begin to think about the good things that I remember--some, that happened a few years ago and other things, that happened this year.

Some people do not understand our family's passion for Disneyland.

Television ads talk about it being a place, where dreams come true. Personally, I would never go that far, but it is a special place for my family.

It's a place, where we spent glorious times with my children. They represent a short time away from the madness at work, a short time with our own small family.

When I arrive there, I don't run from ride to ride any more. My only hope is finding an electric cart that offers speeds to get from one spot to another.

The music and the scent of food there are like I always remember. Prices are much higher, but for an instant, we rediscover what we once found there.

This year was one lucky enough to find us there three or four times.



A last trip last summer was the perfect conclusion for a year, when we actually planned to go one more time. I was not to happen. Too many things prevented it. My mother's stroke, tough financial times, sickness all made it difficult to do it without making life more
complicated. 

Those visits in Reno were uncomplicated. I drive a diesel, so the seven hour drive is not one that is a financial drain. The $50 one way is not a problem, and food is actually cheaper there. We buy groceries. We cook. It makes for an incredible time.

What does a grandfather learn from a visit like this?

Tommy loves sports. His favorite football team is the San Diego Chargers, so any jersey I buy him will be that color, regardless of the fact that I hate the management there and their way of dealing with players and coaches.

Oh, and Tommy likes the Jets too, mostly because LaDainian Tomlinson--a former Charger running back--plays there.

We won't begin to talk about the Lakers, because I don't want to spend that much time on this blog, but if it's one that Tommy wants me to do, it will happen. For the record, I haven't liked the Lakers since the days of Magic and the other players of that time, and even then, I was a Celtic fan, so I rooted for the Lakers only if the Celtics and Jazz weren't in the running for the championship.

I know that Ann loves pink, that she still likes Hello Kitty stuff, that she enjoys clothes.

And I know, that like all my grandchildren so far, she is very intelligent and loves to read.

She is this fragile flower, so sensitive, so kind, so gentle in any way. Her grizzly bear Pop Pop would have a difficult time with the typical creeps that prey on little ones. I pray for her and Tommy and Sammy every night, hoping that God, in the Spirit of an old Celtic prayer, will hold them in the hollow of his hand.

You never experience the true meaning of love, until a little one recognizes you and suddenly wants to be close to you. I never experienced anything like that, until I became a parent, but as a grandparent, I was even more receptive to it.

You do that, when you don't have to worry about issues like making a living.

My goal during my years of fatherhood was being the world's greatest German teacher. I spent an unbelievable amount of time and money doing everything possible to enhance my language skills. I like to think I would do things differently now. 

Sammy is an enigma, a pistol. She is one that is so fun to tease. Sammy has the typical Welsh personality, although there are also influences from Northern Europe as well. Viking blood runs hot.

While visiting in Reno, I discovered that Sammy--unlike my other grandchildren--has this Achilles Heel. Both my father and I could be rendered helpless by a person's simply grasping a foot and placing a finger between the big toe and the next one. While tickling Sammy senselessly, I discovered that.

She twisted and turned and squealed in laughter. Finally she grabbed her mother and bit her on the arm. I was one of those "you had to be there moments," but it was funny.

Did I say I loved to tease my grandchildren. Only Anna hates it. Ann is like that. Lydia is like that. It doesn't mean I don't tease the three of them at times.

To make things additionally interesting, Ann allowed me to be self-indulgent during one visit in late fall. We traveled to Yosemite, something I've wanted to do for 40 years or more. The pictures speak for themselves.

The year 2011 was in the words of Dickens--The Best of Times, The Worst of Times. What can you say about life. At 59, I no longer can do things I once did, but there is so much richness in family.

He has a joy that is infectious. His laughter makes everyone smile.

This year has been a great one, another super experience at school, where he has lots of friends. He has this support system with a young bunch of third grade "intellectuals."

Yes, they still believe in Santa Claus, and yes, they still love Star Wars and Phineas and Ferb. Jack wears T-shirts to school that are a mish mash of super heroes, galactic warriors, and a whole lot of Wimpy Kid stuff.

Like my other grandchildren, his personality was evident from the beginning. And Tommy was always his best friend.

It's a blessing to have Kristin and Jack in Idaho Falls. Every day brings something new. Moments like that make me smile. Jack doesn't understand, how when we talk about stories from his younger years, that it's a way of preserving what we cherish. The same is true of all my grandchildren.

To make things even better this year, we found out that we will have an additional grandchild to spoil early next summer--as if it didn't take a lot to get me to Virginia already. I miss it. I could live there permanently, but visiting is great too.

It's things like that early summer visit in Virginia or a visit to Reno in the spring that give me something to look forward to during the dark, cold months of January, when the hounds of winter have their way with us.

And speaking of hounds, yet another thing is great about 2011. It was the addition of our little Bulldog, Jack's new pet called Zero.

There are days, where he has these moments, short times when he nips and chews and craps and pees--all of which in times and places, where you least want it to happen, but like everything else in life, we love him anyway.

Maybe unconditional love is something you learn from dogs.