...a year ago I was moments from driving up to my rented tenant house.
Dropped foster dogs off to be neutered and went back home to tend to routine matters before work.
I pulled in the driveway and all was not good on the home front. My house was on fire.
This day would trigger the beginning of my most challenging 12 months.
Much has changed, been forgiven, been forgot, been found, been lost.
Old man Brice is no longer living. Thinking back on a year defined by a nomadic existence, I am relieved he did not have to experience the instability. The memory of him does not dominate my thoughts. At times its as if his brief romp through my life was imagined...but then I picture his face, see his expression and know he was real...and really loved.
Everything is different.
Everything is the same.
3 dogs and me...no longer finding but creating seeking and searching.
Catch me if you can.
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