I heard a harsh bark coming from the back of the house. Sounded like an old dog straining to catch attention. What I saw was disheartening. Artie had a tight noose around her neck. Her gray-white fur was muddied and there were patches of exposed skin. Her staring eyes wondered if I was friend or foe. She cowered when I approached and moved as far away from me as the chain would allow. Slowly, I reached out my hand and pat her on the head. Eventually, I started to give her a good massage. All the while, I could see she was trying to process this strange sensation --- as if, for the first time, someone actually recognized she was an animal who had dignity.

A man and his wife walks into a dentist's office. The man says to the dentist, "Doc, I'm in one heck of a hurry. I have two buddies sitting out in my car waiting for us to go play golf, so forget about the anaesthetic. I don't have time for the gums to get numb."

In early 2015, a group of my friends decided to hike up Mt. Whitney, a peak of 14,505 feet in the Eastern Sierras of California. The idea came from our buddy John Marsden. He often was the catalyst of our adventures, and he liked it when his friends could join him on these trips. Many of us in this circle of friends were hikers, and have even done hikes together.