Hello all!

Greetings to all! Hope this message finds you well and enjoying the moment. Last week we made the difficult decision to put our younger dog to sleep. He was unable to eat or drink, could not walk very well, and was having trouble seeing. Most likely he had a brain tumor.

Yosemite was quite the character. He inspired the big band tune “Who’s Walkin Who”, and was such a prominent presence in our family’s lives. He will be sorely missed. We are grateful to have had him in our lives for 9 and 1/2 years, and will fondly remember all the whacky and loving things he did. Yosemite was a seeing-eye trainee, the same as our other dog, Davis, both black labs. They were released from the program for various reasons that made them less than stellar candidates for the seeing-eye job. In Yosemite’s case, we think it had to do with his high-energy approach to things. The day we picked him up he was bouncing off the walls of the room he was in, ready to explode at any minute. I had a vision of Yosemite dragging a blind person horizontally through a grassy field in hot pursuit of a small animal. He did stop to let Carla, my wife, hug him for a second before he started bouncing off the walls again. Carla was the one who instigated us getting these dogs, as I was traveling a lot back then. I am so grateful that she pushed us to get two dogs. Two are definitely better than one! They get to hang and keep each other amused in our absence.



When we got him home I gave him some water and a bowl of dog food. He splashed the water all over the kitchen and devoured the food in about 4 seconds, Looking up with an expression that said “that’s it?” His eating sounded like Homer Simpson devouring his favorite dish.

Carla left on a business trip, leaving me and the two dogs home alone. I figured Yosemite would need a large bowl to keep the water from flying, so I got the largest mixing bowl I could find out of the cupboard and filled it with water, thinking that he would drink as needed, and be a little neater about the whole thing. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Yosemite proceeded to drink all the water in the gallon size bowl in one gulp. When he was done he looked up at me with this apologetic smile, lifted his leg, and began to urinate on the kitchen floor. The faucet was wide open. I ran at him yelling “no, stop!”. He proceeded to run all over the split level house we lived in, urinating as he went. It was back to the smaller bowl for the water.

We had lots of adventures with Yosemite. He was the troublemaker, while Davis, our other dog was generally compliant, and wanted no trouble. It was as if Davis would sometimes say “I’m not with this dog. He’s not my kind of dog. The fact is, Yosemite perked Davis up quite a bit. They would often play-fight and make quite a fuss. If you didn’t know they were playing, you would think they were engaged in mortal combat.

Yosemite was a very large lab who could drag you in any given direction if inspired to do so. He and Davis once dragged me to a neighbor’s front door, which was left open. This neighbor had a strange somewhat vicious dog that Yosemite was very curious about. Why this man had the door open with this strange dog peering out, I will never know. Yosemite and Davis went after the dog, and I was dragged into the house, right by the man, into the living room, yelling “why don’t you keep your dang door closed!?”.

Labrador Retrievers are infamous for eating unspeakable things off the ground, most noticeably dog poop. The outcome of this action is generally more dog poop on the living room rug at 5 in the morning, due to their upset stomach. We tried everything under the sun to rid Yosemite of this habit. We finally settled on a wire cage-like mask that went over Yosemite’s snout, ala Hannibal Lechter. This gentle dog suddenly looked like a killer!

One day we were exiting the woods where we walked our dogs off leash, generally in groups. Yosemite had his mask on, and was still off leash. A woman with a young child in a stroller happened to be walking by. Yosemite went over to say hello. He liked to meet everyone! The woman took one look at Yosemite, grabbed her child, and climbed up on my car. “Get that dog away from us!” she exclaimed. I replied “Don’t worry, he’s very gentle”. She countered “Then why does he have that mask on? He’s going to bite us!” I said “He’s got the mask on because he eats things he shouldn’t.” She was probably thinking “Yeah, like human beings”. I again assured that they were in no danger. She was not convinced. She reiterated, ”Get that dog away from us. Why does he have a mask on?” At this point I wanted the woman off my car, and I said as bluntly as possible “Because he eats dog shit, ok? Now please get off my car!”

The mask worked for a while, but Yosemite eventually figured out how to get around the mask. He would find a big pile of turd, rear his head back, and slam the mask down into the turd. He could then get to most of it with his tongue. Yikes! Carla once tried to get the poop off the mask with a stick. The stick became lodged in the mask. Yosemite pulled away, lowered his head to the ground, put both paws on either side of the stick, lifted his head, and snapped the leather straps that held the mask on. Pretty slick maneuver!

Yosemite would make human-like sounds, primarily when he yawned, generally at 6AM, near to our bedroom door. He was saying “I’m bored and want to get the day going.” There was no sleeping in with Yosemite around. As much of a hassle as this was at times, we sure miss his greeting in the mornings.

Yosemite was always glad to see you. He put you right in the moment, and made you forget whatever it was that was on your mind at the time. What a great dog!

On a brighter note, my mom sent this little blurb on Harry Truman, 33rd president of the United States. I believe he had the right idea, and puts most of the recent politicians to shame! Please read below:
Harry Truman was a different kind of President. He probably made as many, or more important decisions regarding our nation's history as any of the other 42 Presidents preceding him. However, a measure of his greatness may rest on what he did after he left the White House.

The only asset he had when he died was the house he lived in, which was in Independence Missouri . His wife had inherited the house from her mother and father and other than their years in the White House, they lived their entire lives there.When he retired from office in 1952, his income was a U.S. Army pension reported to have been $13,507.72 a year. Congress, noting that he was paying for his stamps and personally licking them, granted him an 'allowance' and, later, a retroactive pension of $25,000 per year.

After President Eisenhower was inaugurated, Harry and Bess drove home to Missouri by themselves. There was no Secret Servicefollowing them.

When offered corporate positions at large salaries, he declined, stating,"You don't want me. You want the office of the President,and that doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the American people and it's not for sale."

Even later, on May 6, 1971, when Congress was preparing to award him the Medal of Honor on his 87th birthday, he refused to accept it,writing, "I don't consider that I have done anything which should be the reason for any award, Congressional or otherwise."

As president he paid for all of his own travel expenses and food. Modern politicians have found a new level of success in cashing in on the Presidency, resulting in untold wealth. Today, many in Congress also have found a way to become quite wealthy while enjoying the fruits of their offices. Political offices are now for sale. (sic. Illinois ) Good old Harry Truman was correct when he observed, "My choices in ife were either to be a piano player in a whore house or a politician. And to tell the truth, there's hardly any difference!