Here he is in the yurt days with wee tiny PerfectAngelBabyDarlingOnlySon.
It's true - we really did live in a Yurt. That little dog is named Holly. We got her when we were living in Pop's old WWII pup tent, that he'd landed on Normandy Beach with. Uncle Ed brought Holly to us because he thought every family who lived in the country (even if only in a tent) needed a dog. That hot summer evening we sat on the hood of the old Mustang, trying to decide what to name her when both of us blurted out "Holly".
One of the many reasons I'm so crazy about the birthday boy is because he builds paths through the woods - and clears them when Mother Nature leaves tragic litter about.
And he can be counted on to bring home the Christmas Tree!
But east or west, home is best - and has been for a long long time.
Happy Birthday Darling