He is a glorious, crazy, free spirited boxer that occasionally comes to visit me. Or more to the point shows up at my apartment and makes it his own world for the time he is here. He is gigantic but doesn’t let that sway him from the belief that he is a lapdog. He does what he wants, precisely when he wants and is a champion of his own destiny. He sometimes can be aggressive and is unconcerned with how that may be perceived by those around him. He is his own dog, and makes no attempts to cover that fact up. He is just like his Mom (apart from her being tiny), and I really hope she decides to stick around, because they both breathe life into me.
on the road
It's Sunday morning and we have no plans. How nice!
A late summer afternoon Boston South Station, about to head west on the Commuter Rail
Walking through Boston, thinking about life. It is weird how those two feel strangely connected.
Paying it forward
The view from the deck of the Charles W. Morgan. She's visiting Boston for a few days, and I had the lucky privilege of an early-bird tour!
Ordinary things: but they mean I am settling into a new home. (Also, after three months, I finally have something to put my clothes in.)