Sixty posts, sixty days.
Yesterday I hit the big six-oh. Sixty posts. Back in the summer of 2002, Dad and I paddled the Mississippi River from Lake Itasca - the very beginning - down to St. Louis. In canoes. In sixty days. Just shy of 1200 miles. (I will publish this exact post again for my 1168th post.)
Shoba came with and was a remarkably wonderful traveller considering she spent the majority of the time curled up at my feet. Of course, she didn't have to paddle.
About halfway down, or thereabouts, we were camped on a beach and I took a bath in the river to wash the scrudge off. You know you are grubby when the river water is somewhat cleaner than you! Anyway, Dad was sitting up on the beach, watching the water go by. I decided to get Shoba in for a little rinse, as she was rather smelly as well. She did not appreciate it, but cleaned up rather nicely. She looked at me with pleading eyes, waiting for the ok to climb out of the water. So I said to her,
"Go on up the beach and shake out next to Dad. He could probably use a shower."
Much to my amazement, and Dad's chagrin, Shoba marched out of the water and (unlike a normal dog who would shake as soon as its feet were on land) walked all the way over to Dad, stood right in front of his chair, and shook like there was no tomorrow.
That dog was two opposable thumbs away from being people.
Anyway, the book I've written taken from the audio journals I kept is just about done being edited. I'll let you know when it's available for general consumption if anybody wants to read about the adventure.
I miss Shoba much today. Four months, still doing some grieving.
More Later
(FYI this post was completed on the 30th, but as paramedicine is an unpredictable field, it was not submitted in time... however, someone's night got much better.)
P.S. wow... I guess it was in time ... guess I need to update my time zone or something.
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