>As for your childhood dog, is that Wolfgang?

No no, Wolfgang came along in my mid-20s. I did have the chance to see him off before he departed. My childhood dog was this goofus:

His name was Randy. He was a present for my fifth birthday, and after I moved away to college he went to live with my mother. The night he died (at the ripe old age of 15, which is pretty good going for a golden retriever, especially one who developed a seizure disorder in middle age), Mom tried to call me several times before she finally had to tell the vet to do what he had to do, but... well, who remembers dial-up internet? Yeah. So I didn't find out that he'd taken a sharp turn for the worse until after it was all over. One of the lingering regrets of my life.

--G.
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Benjamin D. Hutchins, Co-Founder, Editor-in-Chief, & Forum Mod
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