Hi, Rusty. I liked your personal essay about walking your dogs and getting your shit together. Thanks for sharing. I once had a job that paid two hundered dollars a month for working 24/7. Every minute of every day represended danger, injury or death. But included in the remuneration package was food, clothing, shelter, and transpertaion. Hey! What more can a person ask? Right.

I was the leader of a special ops team between 1967-1968 on the battleflieds of Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia. Didn't have a pet, except those that lived with us. That was those that used our bodies as their home.

The micro organisms and bugs loved us, and happily gave up their special talents to make life even better than it was. We were 8,000 miles away from anything we remembered, but we never felt sorry for ourselves. No fresh water. No warm bed. No family members to give us crap, but lots of people telling us what to do.

In civilian life, the attitude when things went wrong was F-them if they can't take joke! Suck it up and get on with it! So the boss is a jerk! So what? What does that have to do with me? Just do my job, get my money and do what I want. In the end, I had 100 people working for me. Even my first boss who lost everything. Just saying. Good luck. Regards