Hounds of Happiness

 

Look at this face.  This is the face of a happy hound.  I was very nervous about how I would take care of him when Lori first dropped him off in his box with a note that said, "Hi, my name is Baxter.  Will you be my mommy?"  I had just returned from a TDY to protect America from 'Merica, and knew that there would be more TDYs like in the near future as the election and the inauguration drew near.  I was correct and ended up all over the states.  

It all worked out.  We potty trained him and I got to enjoy watching my little 'tater grow up into a fine specimen of dachshund: a happy hound.  

    Yesterday was my fifty-fifth birthday.  Lori bought us tickets to see the Foo Fighters in concert at the Dena'ina Convention Center.  No seats.  Standing room only.  We showed proof of vaccination and arrived early to get a seat up close to the stage.  That was my first experience in the "mosh" pit.  

    We arrived inside the main area at six-thirty p.m.  The concert started at nine p.m. and ended around eleven-thirty p.m.  I was surprised that I was able to stand on my tired little feet for five straight hours.  We had a bit of a rough start when we realized that we were in the middle of a larger group of people who were all well on their way to being drunk.  One woman had to leave before the concert started.   The band was fantastic.  I have never heard of such a tight-knit group of musicians before last night.  They executed what my old chorus teacher used to describe as the pause that served as its own note.   

I thoroughly enjoyed being surrounded by other people kind enough to get vaccinated as a way to reunite with other people.  I didn't worry at all.  We wore our masks.  I was very happy.