Tag Archives: mans best friend

My little boy kept going over to the blind, opening it, and peering outside, to see if it had really happened.  His mother would come behind him and close the blind again, trying to put a salve on the curious wound that had now been opened.   He would not be deterred.  Again and again, thisContinue reading “In Memoriam: Posthumous Lessons from my Boston Terrier, Jax”