Birthday again …

Patrick would be 42 today — it’s always a bittersweet day, to say the least. But even though he’s no longer with us, I like to celebrate his memory on his birthday. Like the Day of the Dead when we decorate graves with flowers and take our dead relatives their favorite foods and drinks as a way of reminding them, and ourselves, that although we’ve been separated, we never really do lose on another.

So tonight we’re all having dinner tonight at our friend Jim’s restaurant. We had Patrick’s last birthday there — it was a fun and festive evening — and at one point my darling brother, wearing a kid’s blue cone-shaped birthday hat, looked up from the end of the table to make a toast. “Despite some setbacks,” he said. “This has been one of the happiest years of my life. Thank you for being such great friends and for welcoming us into your lives.”

And so, in memory of Patrick, a guy who had to start over more times than anyone should have had to, and who was nonetheless someone who managed to keep looking for the positive in every situation, here’s a great post at zen habits called “Why Living a Life of Gratitude Can Make You Happy.”

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Bear Shit Dog

 Bear Shit Dog It’s fall in Montana which means that the bears are on the move — there’s been a black bear down in the creekbed woods behind the dog park where we walk and last night Raymond came home covered in bear shit.

Bad dog!

Bad dog got washed with cold water from the hose in the backyard. Bad dog got washed with the stinky leftover orange-rosemary shampoo that he hates — I keep hoping this will deter him from rolling in stinky dead things, however, I seem to be hoping in vain.

I haven’t seen the bear, but we’re all having trouble with dogs and bear shit. So far this fall we’ve had a young buck moose in town, but no real bear stories yet — it’ll happen. There’s always a bear story in the fall.

At least they haven’t gotten lice yet this year. Yet.

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