smacky and bucky

Yeah, so, more news:

My coworker's dog died last night. He was a really sweet golden retriever named Max, 14 years old. Yeah, pretty old, but still a sudden death is very hard. She's out today. When I heard what happened this morning, I walked to the drug store and got one of those pet sympathy cards and passed it around to the other three folks in our department and left the card on her desk. Like my coworker, my wife had a dog that predated me (as my coworker's dog predated her husband), and losing the dog was like a piece of your past died.

Oh, and file this under "I wish I was independently wealthy and didn't have to work": My father-in-law's college roommate owns a big sailboat (40 feet, I believe), and he's sailing down the coast to Florida. He's stopping in at our place on Sunday, sailing in from the Chesapeake Bay, so we can check out the boat and wish him a good trip. It would be a dream to take a month off and spend October sailing all the way to Florida. Of course, my wife won't let me because we have bills to pay. Meanie! I'd miss her and the pets too. But a month at sea is awfully tempting!