March 12th, 2003

Roadkill

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today is my father's birthday. My father could've been the model for Calvin's dad in Calvin and Hobbes, the way Calvin's dad would concoct these bizarre explanations for things like black and white photographs and such. When we played catch when I was young, he always claimed to have taught Stan Musial how to hit, and I became a fan of Stan Musial for that reason. And you know what? He was so damn convincing that I always half believed him, even after I looked up Musial's birthdate and discovered that he was actually a few years older than my old man.

I've told it before, but one of my favorite stories about my dad was one my mom sent me last winter about him and their old dog, Cassie:

"Cassie has always LOVED the snow. Her thick fur and all, she would have been a great sled dog up north. Over the years, when Dad took her out, he would throw little snow balls for her to catch and eat. She came to expect them and wait for him to get the snow (from clean places) for her. These days, the old lady is barely able to get out and do what she has to and back in the house.

"After the last snow storm, I found Dad in the kitchen, feeding Cassie
snow balls he brought inside for her..."