Today marks the arrival of Fantastic Fred, the newest member of our family! He’s about five months old, and is a mix (we like the mutts) of shelty, and who knows what. He’s a great little guy — very sweet. He’s got lots of puppy energy, but unlike most puppies, he doesn’t seem to ever use those sharp puppy teeth, other than working them out on a good bone. He’s also not a big face-licker, instead going for a kind of a nuzzling thing that just feels like a nice doggy hug.

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“Do you think they’ll be okay?”

I looked over at my wife, sitting in the passenger seat. The slight visible tension in her forehead, and her upturned eybrows turned the question into a slightly anxious plee.

“Do you think my cats will be okay?” she repeated. I could hear the trace of real worry in her voice.

“They’ll be fine,” I said. “Ben’s coming to see them and feed them every day. They’ll probably be a little freaked out, but they’ll be in their own place, with food and water and Ben’s attention. They’ll be fine,” I repeated.
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It’s sort of a spiritual thing, Canoeing.

It’s hard for me to verbalize, but there’s something about floating down a river’s current in an unmotorized boat which just connects with who I am at deep levels. It has nothing to do with whitewater rapids or excitement — it’s pure appreciation of natural beauty and the power of the river. I fondly remember many river trips with my dad from childhood and I love the way a certain combination of paddle strokes will push the boat this way and that, using the river’s power, rather than overpowering it.
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