Dugan does not have an opinion about Lost.
He also does not have opinions about the Tea Party movement, the Phillies fast start or the departure of Donovan McNabb. It is what makes hanging out with him that much more awesome.
We hopped in the Blazer and went to Valley Green for what seemed like the first time in a year. We walked past the golfers and the birds and the squirrels and down towards the creek. There wasn’t any swimming today- just tromping, as Dugan didn’t quiet feel comfortable with the height of the water. It was higher than before. A little more murky, brown as well and at best, Dugan would tromp the shit out of the place and save the swimming for later. There was one stick that got away from him that he seemed to take harder than with some of the others. But like a true dynamic, erratically-moving mass of enthusiasm, he moved on and splashed great big splashes into the clear, blue skies.
In moving on myself, into life without Gram, it has been not being able to call her anymore that has stuck with me. That’s a bummer. A week ago I felt bad- because I hadn’t called her in awhile. I guess I know she’s gone, but my routines don’t.
Calling her after a tromping like today with The Dugan would have probably happened on the front porch, once we had gotten back. But instead I read the paper. Dugan took to the floor like laundry and was only stirred briefly by the dudes working on the house next door.
It has been a tough stretch as of late, a real strapping of emotions but getting out there today with Dugan felt right- it was nice to settle back in to something familiar. It’s like walking Dugan and on the home stretch, when he settles in to a nice groove and sometimes you forget that you’re holding on to him. It’s falling into lock step, and after a weird spell of days- it was definitely needed.
Unfortunately, so was some perspective on Lost.
I guess that’s why they made the Internet.
Love you Gram.