It's been a long time since I've sat myself at this keyboard and watched my thoughts take form. I think the autumn chill in the air gets my chatty juices flowing--I know it does for the Lady. Or, it does when she isn't quiet and sad. Her dad died last month, which means when we go to Montana, he won't be at the kitchen table resting his hand on my head and calling me a "dignified gentleman" or slipping me tasty items under the table when no one is watching. The Lady and Mister and Girl and Boy did not take me with them to Montana to tell him goodbye. Just as well. I do not like goodbyes--unless it's the vet saying them. She told me his funeral was an event he would have loved to attend--and she believes he did--complete with a horse parade, stories, laughter, food and drink, and many hours spent on the front porch talking and watching the little people play.

The lady told me she has 46 years of great and often funny memories of her dad. He was a veritable buffet of personality traits, just a few being--kind, generous to a fault, affectionate, emotional, hot-headed, stubborn, and her favorite, he had an enormous love of silliness. She's going to make it a point to tie unsuspecting guests jacket sleeves in knots from time to time--as well as whatever other forms of silliness he inspires in her along the way--just to carry on his joyful prankiness.