Maybe, maybe not.
Maybe, maybe not.

Welcome home. Seems to be symbolic of this week.

I’m not going to the political side of things. Enough.


We lost another musician. A man described by Bob Dylan as being the number one songwriter, mostly because Dylan sees himself as number zero. So far set apart that he’s some place else. It’s not ego. It just is.

But, still.

If you read the rest of Dylan’s comments you know that he held this man in highest regard. While Dylan tosses songs off in 15 minutes, it often took this cat two or three years of writing to get this work to the point that he was comfortable showing it to the world.

Leonard Cohen left us last night. I hope that, as he said in his last interview, it wasn’t too uncomfortable. He is already missed. Greatly.

I’m lucky. I got to see him with the band on my link a couple of times. During his last tour. Ever.

This has been an almost unbearable week. It doesn’t stop with the election or with Mr. Cohen’s passing.

That dog. The one who sees stuff. Has something going on with her liver. Before I hit the road, she was taking two antibiotics and a liver builder because her enzyme numbers were high. Yesterday, her blood work was studied again. The numbers got worse. Next is an ultra sound and a Cushing’s test. Cushing’s is a non-threatening tumor in a dog’s pituitary gland. Meds for life. If — the big word being if — that’s all it is. And, blood work every three months. It could be something worse. It could require surgery. It could, it could, it could…

Me. I’m not sure what to do.  I’m a Neil Young kind of guy. In “Powderfinger” he once said, “Numbers add up to nothing.” I’m kind of headed that way, because she is asymptomatic. Of anything. The only reason she had blood work done was in preparation for a teeth cleaning. Trust me. Cushing’s alone has this huge list of symptoms. She has none of them. She is happy. Playful. Likes to go for long walks. Eats well. Gives her dog pals playful hell.

I’m starting to think enough. About this too. Digital fishing expeditions.  The very, very expensive rabbit hole. I’ll continue to love her as she loves us. And, let her live her life as long or as short as it may be.

I have nothing more.

Just this. Hallelujah. RIP Leonard Cohen. Yes. I’ll remember one quote. “Everything has cracks. That’s how the light gets in. ”


2 Replies to “Welcome Home”

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