My Very Old Man has died. It was in the paper yesterday. His name was Harold Busby and he was 88 years old. I haven’t seen him in about a week — I pass his house while walking the dogs and I usually stop to pet his Very Sweet Brown Dog and to wave at him behind his picture window. I don’t know what’s happened to the dog — I’ll have to ask his neighbor Lynn, who has been taking care of Harold for the past couple of months. I’m sad about my Old Man — I liked seeing him…