This little guy reminds me of one of my favorite places in the world. We once had a basset hound that loved, absolutely loved going to the beach. She would do an all out run when she hit the sand. The only way we could get her back home is to entice her to chase the sandpipers all the way back. Part of my summer vacation has also been spent spending time with my mom. She has suffered a stroke. Most of the time I am with her I wonder where my mother has gone. This is not she. This is not the strong, decisive, shepherdess of four children. She is there though in those long ago memories of a sweet dog chasing birds or forgiven mischief by one or all of her children.
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