Today, Roy caught me snooping around the exterior of this old house, out in what felt like the middle of nowhere. He pulled up in his big truck with a coonhound in the passenger's seat and I thought I was about to get an earful. Turns out it's the house he grew up in and he asked me if I'd like to see it. We climbed through the briars and up onto the porch and as we entered through the front door Roy began to describe what each room had been used for, which led to the telling of several cherished childhood stories and details about the individual members of his family. His first dog is buried under a huge oak tree on the property. I asked Roy if he remembered the dog's name and he said, "Oh yes, Joe. I still think about him every day!" Joe was hit by a car when Roy was fourteen, but don't be too sad - Roy calls his current pup son and says they sleep together every night. Today was a good day.
