Anyone who knows me very well will tell you that I’m not the most fastidious man that ever lived.
My second wife – I’ve been encouraged not to refer to them as ex-wife No. 1 or No. 2 – told me once that I’d raised myself and done a really lousy job of it.
Now, I didn’t take offense at her remark because I figured that if I was still livin’, I hadn’t done that bad a job and she was certainly welcome to her own opinion.
As time has passed and my hair has gone from brown to lots of white with a growing bald spot, I’m beginning to see that she may well have been closer to the mark than I thought.
I live with a 12-year-old blue heeler named Grace, and our relationship is as close to perfect as I can imagine one being. I love her and she loves me. Just like that.
Now, I am responsible for providing for her, and we are both aware of that, on those occasions when I come up short, there are no arguments or passive aggressive days of “silent treatment.” She just informs me immediately about my error and I correct it.
My housekeeping skills are few, and seein’ as how I don’t mind much, I don’t mind much. Everything that I own is used hard and I’m prone to wearing clothes way, way past their expiration date.
Doin’ laundry today I had to say goodbye to a shirt that I’d been patching since last summer and it was a lot like having to put one of my horses down.
I reckon I’ll live and I don’t think they’ve stopped making denim Western shirts, so I can get another to wear way, way past its expiration date.
It’s the livin’ with a dog, not bein’ a great housekeeper, wearing clothes that are worn out and a willingness to sleep on the couch in a sleepin’ bag that make me think that Debby may have been right.
But hell, other than that, I’m a regular “Spiritual Portal.”
Tom James was riding horses before he could walk. He currently hangs his hat in Ignacio. Reach him at email@example.com. The topknot, by the way, is the last knot tied on a pack saddle.