This is a true story.The picture with the cars in the background is the only photo of Henry. He was with me going back to my very first memories. The picture is not of him, but of the cars... he happened to be walking past.
I loved Henry.
The second picture is of King Henry II. I don't love him as much. He pees on the Persian, hates most everyone, with the exception of Dean, & is overall a mediocre pet. He loves me for some reason. My daughter & I, in a weak moment, brought him home from the Humane Society.
One day, after Henry the First had been missing for over a month, the neighbor informed my mom, "I found that dog of yours... I'll go get him."
My mother ran in the house over joyed, & delivered the wonderful news.
By the time I ran outside, the neighbor had returned with Henry.
As he threw his rotting carcass on the tarmac, he flipped him over with the tip of his shovel & said "As you can see by all the maggots on this side he has been dead for quite a while."
I cried as listened to my mother use some the foulest words I'd ever heard come out of her mouth... & ever since have had a rough time bounding with animals.
I would have loved to have had a long, deep, meaningful, one on one conversation with your neighbor. Asshole just doesn't seem to some it up. By the way Jeff I have admired your work for a long time now. You must find it deeply rewarding but a long and very difficult process. Your pieces will be here long after we are not. That in it's self is rewarding.
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