Scrappy... and the ban. But mostly Scrappy.

Today I'd like to lightly address the "Muslim ban" issue.  Just hang on; it'll take up just this one paragraph.  I get that there are a lot of you out there that think it's horrible that we aren't letting them in, that there are people out there who DESERVE a taste of freedom and a place on these shores, and believe that America, and especially our President, is acting in a mean vindictive way.  I would like here to remind you of a few important facts.  Before you think the refugees are the only victims here, go look up what is happening in cities across Europe, google the last two New Years' Eves in Europe.  Understand what it is the "ban" is trying to prevent.  Before you call it a "Muslim ban", consider that of the SEVEN nations (out of 50 Muslim-majority nations) in the ban, only Iran has a stable government that would be able to co-operate in the vetting process;  This ban doesn't even cover all the nations we can prove have terrorists sneaking in here and in Europe, just the ones whose rulers are too divided, or too imbecilic, to help in the vetting.  And before you tell me how all the earth is united against us on this, ask the hypocrites in the EU why 3 million refugees in Turkey, and about 15,000 more on the Greek Islands, not including those already on the mainland facing border fences in Austria, Switzerland, and Hungary, are NOT in THEIR countries.  And while you're at it, Google "why did Britons vote for Brexit" and read the cornucopia of stories that name forced EU immigration and refugee quotas as the top reason by a substantial margin.

See?  That was easy!


And now I'd like to talk about Scrappy.

Scrappy is an old man- figuring he's heading for year 13.  And it shows on him.  Look closely and you can see the mass on his left shoulder.  You've probably noticed his occasionally buggered up right eye. He has at least two lumps on his belly bigger than his (resting) pee-wee.  But that's all cosmetic.

His favorite thing in the world is walks.  Since Peanut was born, we've been keeping track of our walks, and he's rang up just past 95 miles in those 86 days, right around a mile a day.  But he pays for it.  Anything over a mile anymore, and he limps the rest of the day.  His back end doesn't respond like it used to, his back legs give out after resting a while.  Last night, he barely made it up to bed.  In the morning he's fine, and just try to slow him down when the leash is on!  But what a cost.

The other morning, after he had had a fairly normal 2 mile jaunt with me the day before, I told him "to the office and back, and that's it".  I dropped him off after his 7/10ths leg, and it broke my heart when he looked at me when I went out to get the additional exercise I needed.  Last night broke it worse.  2 summers ago, he basically shrugged off a the 5 miles to Shoaff and back.  Now I'll have to drive him there.

I get a lot of my milage at work, going back and forth in front of my machine- about 60 of my almost 178 miles.  And some days, that's all I get, because he just can't make it.  Sometimes I'm happy when it's too cold or wet to go, for his sake.

He is the Clark to my Lewis, the Jim to my Marlin.  A lot of the best things I have seen in life I have seen with him.  I told Laurie the other night, "The things we love the most (for me, Pepsi) are killing us both."  She chuckled a little, and I muttered, "I'm not being even a little funny."  I used to call him "the good morning baby" because on the weekends, he was in my face trying to get me up and going at first full light.  Now, he stays under the covers until I'm dressed most mornings.  Getting old sucks.  It sucks harder when you get old faster.

Despite the joking on Time Machine, I'm no Time Lord.  I can't reverse the clock.  Our lives are a "fixed point in time".  Hootie said it best:

Time, why you punish me? 

Like a wave bashing into the shore 

You wash away my dreams. 

Time, why you walk away? 

Like a friend with somewhere to go 

You left me crying 

Can you teach me about tomorrow 

And all the pain and sorrow 

Running free? 

Cause tomorrow's just another day 

And I don't believe in time ...

Time is wasting 

Time is walking 

You ain't no friend of mine 

I don't know where i'm goin' 

I think I'm out of my mind 

Thinking about time 

And if I die tomorrow, yeah 

Just lay me down in sleep ...

And now, I think I'll have a Pepsi.  Because, screw you, time...