Today

I was just outside with my puppy, Tank and his Uncle, Rebel and I was thinking that today sure was  strange. It was just a weird day. 

Today was the opening day of goose season in Maryland and I was all excited.

Tonight I was trying to figure out what was bothering me so much about the whole day. Searching. 

Even when I was driving to the hunt this morning, about a 35 minute drive, it was weird. I went over the Delaware Bridge and didn't even remember that I did. I didn't want to listen to my usual music. I didn't listen to anything. The tradition is Hank Jr. on the drive or Jocko. Not today.

I was saying my morning prayers and it felt like I was forgetting to pray for something.

We took the Tundra: Me, Rebel and Tank. Rebel has his Taj Mahal 2,000 5 star crash tested and weatherproofed, strapped in kennel in the bed of my truck. He's all set. I had to take Tank, too. I couldn't leave him at the house with my wife and other son still sleeping. He would begin to howl and they wouldn't appreciate being woken up at 5:30. He's not ready to hunt yet, so I put his kennel in the back seat. Tank absolutely hates my truck, and I suspect, any moving vehicle. He freezes in place, his ears drop as low as they can and he looks at me so pitifully. He hasn't learned to associate the truck with hunting yet, so it's this miserable time for him. He glues himself to the bottom of the kennel and does not move. Sometimes he emits a pitiful whine. When I go to get him out of the kennel, he does not move. I have to pry him out. So I was feeling bad about Tank the whole drive.

I feel really bad for my dogs, like I feel for them all the time. I care a lot about kids and dogs. But it's a different level of caring than most. My buddy Steve loves dogs, too. But he doesn't feel bad for them if they have to wait to eat a while because he got busy and he doesn't worry about every dog he owns retrieving equally during each day. I would feel so bad, so guilty that it would really mess with me. Steve is a realist. I am not when it comes to dogs. Tank is a big old baby, and he's a sweet boy. But I feel a tremendous responsibility to make him happy and not scared. I actually have a twinge of regret for getting him. It's a big responsibility to have one of these hunting dogs. They demand and deserve hours and hours of attention each day.  I give it to him, but he makes me worry.

And either Rebel's paw or shoulder or elbow is bothering him. He has an ultrasound on January 16th. I couldn't leave him at home either. He's my hunting buddy. He would be so hurt. And he would've really howled if I left him. I wouldn't be able to face him when I got home, no way. So he went and he seemed pretty good, his adrenaline was pumping like a pain killer, I am sure. So I worried about him.

And then I thought about my three boys, my sons and I worried about each of them for awhile. Actually, for a long time. Each of them has stuff going on like all kids, do. And you want them to just listen to everything that you say but they don't because they have to learn stuff on their own and fail and then fail again and then they finally learn. At least that's the hope.

Then everything just seemed a little off on the hunt today. The sky wasn't as pretty as it usually is. I didn't see any Bald Eagles or deer like I usually do. It was too windy for the geese to land in my decoys. They just flew by me. Thousands of them.  Other people were blasting the sky like it was WW3. Not me and so Rebel had no geese to retrieve. The whole time I was worried about Tank in the truck. Frozen with fear. 

When the hunt was over, I pulled frozen in fear Tank out of the kennel and he dove in the pond. He was happy. But then we had to drive home. That pitiful whine.

And on the way home my son called and we disagreed vehemently on something and I lost my shit. I felt bad about that, also. 

And then I listened on a podcast about how we have all these kids that are missing in this country. There is at least 300,000 of them. That's three filled up Michigan football stadiums. That's so fucked up that I can't believe our goverment doesn't make finding them their number one priority. Bunch of fucking greedy assholes. You want a raise and we have missing kids and people dying left and right from Fentanyl. Nothing, motherfucking crickets. Hell, it should be on every newscast and every newspaper and on every web page every day until they are all found. It is hard to believe, but it just shows how messed up this world is. Pure evil.

Tomorrow will be better. It usually is. You have to have days like today to appreciate the wonderful days.