This morning the dog and I were in the garden drinking coffee. A year ago there were three of us, but his old sidekick Sam died. I've noticed that Bud's been moving slower these days too. He took slow, measured steps up the walk, stopping every few feet to rest and smell the dog scent on the plants. The thought went through my mind that we were both getting to be old outlaws. Here's one from Waylon. I didn't really get the soul of song when it was new. Listen up, young bucks, and know why the dog's heart aches. (I apologize for the graphics. Close your eyes.)
A song for Bud.
Waylon at peak voice with agony on his lips and pain in his eyes.
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