It was a lovely wedding. Another tale for another day.
Arrived home late Sunday night to find the dogs missing. Fortunately Steve drove around and found them, but the gate was wide open. We don't know how it happened.
Anyway, found them. Tuesday, someone opened the gate again, but this time we couldn't find them. We drove around for about 5 hours looking for them, each heavily trafficked street a reminder of the damage they could suffer, every phone call brought hope and then dashed them. Every caller had to wonder why I sounded so disappointed by their call. By 6 pm I was a basket case. I thought I heard Happy barking, so I ran to the front door with a big smile on my face, full of expectation, only to realize that the barking had been on TV in another room.
That same night my parents arrived from Salem, Oregon after a long and exhausting trip. The following morning Steve, my brother-in-law, Glenn, and my nephew, Justin unloaded the moving truck, leaving a houseful of furniture and belongings in about half the space needed, but with room enough to reach the chair that my Dad sleeps in, space to get into the kitchen and make coffee, and an empty couch for resting and sleeping.
After dropping off the rental truck, Mom and Justin went with me to the pound where I found both dogs. Happy was fine, but Barney was quite freaked out. Not really a surprise. He doesn't do well in a kennel, or around the smell of lots of other dogs. He is still acting a bit traumatized, and all his reactions seem just a bit more pronounced than normal. I am so happy to have them back. I didn't realize I hadn't taken a full breath, until I quit holding my breath after picking them up.
So, went to help unpack in the afternoon. I'm not a whole lot of help, but I am some. It will be quite some time before the apartment is straight and organized, but they do have a wonderful view of Pikes Peak from their patio.
So today, we went over to pick up some excess stuff that needed to be removed from the patio, and while the stuff was being unloaded at my house, I stayed with Dad where he told the following story:
A friend and professor at the seminary in Salem was also an expert fly fisherman and fly fishing instructor. He and Dad went fishing in the mountains. At one point in the middle of the river, dad realized he need to eat. As he opened his lunch, the boat became surrounded by ducks and geese, including a particularly nifty family of a mom, dad and several small ducklings. Dad fed the ducks as he fed himself, until there was no more, at which point he told the mother duck to go, and she did, taking her ducklings with her.
A while later, Dad got a hit on his line--a big hit. He looks out and the mother duck is going beserk, then the daddy duck goes nuts. His big hit is one of the ducklings. Definitely a catch and release. Duckling went free, to the relief of mom and dad, but several fish went into the frypan, and Dad went from being a fisherman to "The Duckerman".