In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog:

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

Monday, January 30, 2012

Remembering a Birthday

Yesterday would have been my father-in-law's 95th birthday. I thought about him this morning and the few stories he told about his service during WW2. As told by him, he walked across Europe, starting in Sicily and ending on a transport ship to Great Britain.

As a radio operator, he saw, and heard, much of the war. If he was in combat, he never told, although from his rather low opinion of General Patton, he was well aware of the carnage of his campaigns. All in all, he never had much to say and I never asked.

One thing that always stuck in my thoughts was his adoption of a dachshund during his time in Europe. Although I don't know where he found "Fritz", he was almost in tears when he described leaving him with a family in France before leaving Europe for home. They were companions for a long time, but Fritz couldn't go home with my father-in-law, so he did what was best.

So, I sit here with my thoughts and wonder about the events of war that led a radio operator to caring for a dog. I can imagine him sharing his rations and fussing over the small dog like he fussed over other dogs later in his life. While it seemed like he was spoiling his pets, I think it was much more. He was remembering and missing a friend he knew he'd never see again.


  1. Oh, sad dog stories always make me cry. I'm going to go hug Rupert extra tight.

  2. A pup can look into your heart and love you unconditionally in spite of your true self. it's no wonder they inspire such loyalty. Even here, 70 or so years later, the story of him being separated from Fritz brought a lump to my throat. Bless you as you remember your dear one and I hope Fritz had a long happy life with people who spoiled him and made him feel loved every day. Bless dogs and how they enrich us.

  3. Doxies burrow in your heart. How sad that he left him in France. Poor Fritz, having to eat escagot every day and smell hairy pits all day.

  4. Judging by my experience with dogs, they enjoy tastes and smells most people find objectionable. So, maybe France is some type of dog heaven.