RIP, Boris.

Halfway up the firebreak leading to the mountain summit outside our front window, I climbed up on Sunday morning and scattered the ashes of our dear old dog Boris. I still miss the ol' guy and still expect to see him come wagging up to me when I come home. I'll be on my way home thinking, OK, well, I have to walk the dog and . . . and then I remember he's not with us anymore. He was a great dog and you can see our house from up here, so I figured it was a good spot to leave him. Rest in peace, Boris, we miss ya.