Faithful Companions - Japanese Dogs Display Ultimate Loyalty

There have been over 23,000 people either missing or dead from Japan's earthquake and tsunami to date. As the world has watched and held it's (collective) breath, there have been a few miraculous rescues...but far fewer than hoped for.

One of the stories that seems to embody the nature of these stalwart people is of a Japanese dog that refused to leave his injured friend behind. In the last few weeks the YouTube video of this news coverage has become increasingly popular.

It shows Japanese rescuers coming upon two dogs, wet, dirty and shivering amidst massive wreckage. They had been caught in the tsunami and though one appeared unharmed, the other was thought dead until it raised its head. What is so endearing about this pair, is the faithfulness of the healthy dog. Even as rescuers approached, the dog would run to them but then trot back to his injured friend, sitting by his side (sometimes on his face), letting the world know that he would not leave - a loyal companion to the end. Both dogs were rescued and by all reports the injured dog is making a complete recovery.

This week our aging dog, Pokey, suffered a personal tsunami that brought us face to face with the potential death of our own faithful companion. 


With her 16th birthday just one month away, Pokey picked up a nasty bug that caused the most violent intestinal expulsions imaginable. Then she started throwing up. After four days of this she was exhausted, but seemed to be on the mend. She was eating well again and her intestines appeared to be back to normal. She had a good weekend, begging for walks, food and attention.

But Monday morning Peter woke me up early. Pokey was disoriented, struggling to stand, unable to walk and in significant pain. Spasms wracked her stomach and she moaned with each one. Her breathing was labored and erratic.We couldn't understand the sudden change and had nothing for her pain so made a quick trip to our vet. Although we hadn't seen him in over two years, our vet has seen Pokey grow up from a tiny pup. He doesn't mince words and isn't in the profession for the money - he has often given us "extras" for no charge. He just really loves animals.


After he checked her over, got her to stand briefly and asked a few questions, he told us it was most probably a long-term chest cancer that had suddenly exacerbated overnight due to her coughing. There was the potential she had an intestinal bleed as well. The tests to confirm these diagnosis would cost about $600. He didn't recommend them. He didn't even recommend us putting her down. He said we were looking at palliative care and gave us some liquid pain relief. She might only last a few days, but some dogs rallied and we could have her for a few weeks, maybe a month...

Pokey has always been a trooper so we weren't ready to give up on her. By the next day she was walking on her own, climbing stairs (though very slowly) eating a whole bowl of food and then pooping on our kitchen floor. Pretty much back to normal. It is giving us the chance to pet her a lot, tell her what an amazing dog she is (we have to shout it because she is quite deaf), and enjoy these last days or weeks or maybe even months, with our ever loyal friend.


It's given me the chance to remember some of her 'greatest moments,' so I'll share one with you. From the time she was a puppy we began the training process. It included all the typical things - sit, stay, speak, down, shake-a-paw, treat, car ride and even bunny, mouse and gopher (she is part Basset Hound). But since we lived opposite an off-leash hill, we wanted her to be outside on her own without charging across the road every time she saw another dog. So we began making her stop before she crossed a street. EVERY street. Sometimes she even mimicked me by looking both ways for cars, before looking up at me for the go ahead. We often wondered if all this work was really getting through...

One day I was at a neighbour's house for tea. She lived just down the street but right across the road from the end of our block. I had told Peter when I planned on being back home. 
The only way I can understand what happened next is to believe Peter had an attack of temporary insanity. He let Pokey out of our front door around the time I said I would come home, and told her to go find me. Now Pokey could track me anywhere! One time she had eluded Peter and followed my scent through a London Drugs store, to the amusement of both patrons and employees.


I was completely oblivious to the time, just enjoying the conversation with our neighbour, when the phone rang. She picked it up and promptly handed it to me. 
A frantic Peter shouted, ''Where is Pokey?''


''What do you mean, 'Where is Pokey?' She's with you, of course,'' I replied.


''I let her out 15 minutes ago and told her to find you,'' he sheepishly admitted.


''You did what?'' I shouted back. ''She could be anywhere!''

I gripped the cordless phone and walked to the window facing the other side of the road. There was Pokey sitting patiently, staring at me through the window. When she saw me looking at her, she began frantically wagging her tail, but never moved from a sitting position. By now my neighbour was laughing loudly. As I dropped the phone I could hear Peter, in the distance, shouting, ''What's happening? What's going on there?''

I slowly walked out the front door and down the steps. Pokey's tail was wagging so fast it was a blur. I looked down one side of the road and then the other. And she did the same. Once her eyes were back on me I yelled, ''Good girl!'' and told her to ''Come!'

 

Pokey got an extra special treat that night (while Peter was 'in the dog house'). Ever since then we have been able to trust her outside, on her own, with no fear of her crossing the road. 


Even in her debilitated state, she is showing me how much she enjoys life - a good meal, a slow walk down the street, licking snow, tracking bunnies and a good night's sleep. Now we have to trust that she will let us know when she has sucked all the marrow out of this life.


The YouTube video can be viewed at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3TM9GL2iLI 

The Fukushima 50!

They are the last line of defense for a country fearful of imminent nuclear catastrophe. With nerves of steel they've gone into battle, crawling on their hands and knees through dark mazes, with flashlights and radiation detectors. They are wearing "hazmat" protection suits with heavy oxygen tanks on their backs. They are exhausted but have fought fires and poured sea water on partially destroyed reactors.


They are the Fukushima 50!

Once a worker is exposed to 1000 millisieverts of radiation, nausea and vomiting occur - the first signs of radiation poisoning. The Fukushima 50 could be exposed to radiation levels eight times that amount. That's more than a skilled nuclear facility worker in the USA would face in a career.


As the Japanese Times and other newspapers around the world have been focusing on the stricken nuclear plant in Fukushima - almost to the exclusion of mounting concerns for the thousands who are missing, dead, or without basic supplies - one woman decided to set the record straight.

As Japanese countrymen focused their rage on the owners of the nuclear facility, TEPCO, for not doing more to prevent this crisis, Michiko Otsuki and her colleagues worked all-out to control the disaster at Japan’s Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant. In the midst of the post-earthquake chaos, she watched her co-workers quietly put their lives on the line, doing all they could to stave off a meltdown with little thought for their own safety.
In a series of blog posts, translated by The Straits Times, Otsuki writes, “In the midst of the tsunami alarm, at 3 a.m. in the night when we couldn't even see where we were going, we carried on working to restore the reactors from where we were, right by the sea, with the realization that this could be certain death.”

The extent of the destruction was worse than anyone had anticipated, and at its most dangerous for the employees who stayed on the job. 

“The machine that cools the reactor is just by the ocean,” Otsuki writes, “and it was wrecked by the tsunami. Everyone worked desperately to try and restore it. Fighting fatigue and empty stomachs, we dragged ourselves back to work. There are many who haven’t got in touch with their family members, but are facing the present situation and working hard.”

And on Twitter, NamicoAoto talked about her father’s heroic call to duty. “Tomorrow, my father will be dispatched to the Fukushima nuclear power plant to help out with the crisis,” she wrote two days after the quake. “When I heard that my father, who is scheduled to retire in six months, had volunteered to help, I could barely hold back my tears. ‘If we act now,’ he said, ‘we can change the future of the nuclear power plant. I will go there with this mission.’...I have never felt so proud of him.”

Reports from the plant, according to a statement from the International Atomic Energy Agency, indicate that 21 people have been injured, 20 have been exposed to excessive radiation and two are missing. Most of the plant’s 1,800 employees have been evacuated, except for the skeleton crew of unsung hero's that remains.

Though they are now described in Japanese media, with growing admiration, as the Fukushima 50, there is a skeleton crew of close to 200 that work in rotating shifts of 50 to try and keep the reactors from total radioactive destruction. These modern-day hero's are working in radiation levels that have been high enough to drive off outside emergency crews. The Fukushima 50 try to limit their exposure and have to carry out their work in clammy, airtight suits, slowing down their repairs and adding to their fatigue even as the situation at the nuclear plant worsens.

“Everyone at the power plant is battling on, without running away,” Otsuki writes. “To all the residents who have been alarmed and worried, I am truly deeply sorry...There are people working to protect all of you, even in exchange for their own lives.”

Low levels of radiation have been detected well beyond Tokyo, which is 140 miles (220 kilometers) south of the plant, but hazardous levels have been limited to the plant itself. With the Japanese and US nuclear experts saying it could take weeks to get the reactors under control, will the Fukushima 50 be given any relief?

An admirer of this crew tweeted, "Whatever's the closest international equivalent to the Medal of Honor - Nobel Peace Prize? -- The Fukushima 50 deserve that, and more."

What do you think they deserve?

Nuclear Meltdown

Of all the countries in the world, Japan is one of the most prepared for either an earthquake or a tsunami. But to have both come at once, with an 8.9-magnitude quake that was upgraded to 9.0, is something no country is ready for. Experts say the earthquake that hit Japan on March 11th, released 1000 times the energy of the one that leveled much of Haiti just over a year ago.

This is now the fourth largest earthquake since 1900. It had a shallow epicentre in the Pacific Ocean just off Japan's northeastern coastal city of Sendai. 

It triggered a tsunami that traveled almost as fast as a cruising Boeing 747, carrying away everything in its wake - cars, trucks, houses, large buildings and even planes - nothing was spared.

Though the loss of life and devastation is overwhelming, possibly the most frightening occurrence right now is happening at the Daiichi nuclear reactor facility.With 6 of Japan's 55 nuclear reactors forced to shut down in the wake of electrical outages, the plant located in Fukishima, close to the epicentre, has had one catastrophe after another. Everything that could go wrong, has - almost.

Not only did the tsunami knock out electricity to the plant, it also knocked out its diesel-generated backup power system. This left the facility without the energy necessary to cool the rising temperatures in the fuel rod housing.

The Fukushima facility after explosions rocked reactors #1 and #3.

Fukushima Daiichi has six reactors, all built in the 1970s, and three were operating when the quake and tsunami happened. The #1 unit, the oldest and smallest of the reactors, and unit #3 initially were the source of the main problems.

To shut down a reactor, safety valves are opened to release the steam and water is used to then to cool down the reactor core. The core can overheat if part of it has been exposed above the water level for some time.

Loss of cooling water resulted in a near meltdown of the Three Mile Island reactor in Pennsylvania in 1979, the worst nuclear incident in U.S. history even though minimal radiation leaked into the atmosphere. Scientists have said that even if the Japanese nuclear plant goes into full meltdown, it is unlikely to cause environmental fallout on the scale seen after the 1986 Chernobyl disaster in the Ukraine. Damage to this nuclear reactor in Japan has happened just weeks before the 25th anniversary of Chernobyl.

Japanese engineers are taking these problems very seriously. At the first sign of trouble, people living close to the reactor were asked to evacuate. When all attempts to stabilize reactor #1 failed, workers vented some radioactive gas. 

But leaking hydrogen caused an explosion that blew the roof and walls off of a secondary containment structure in the reactor facility, releasing a plume of smoke that could be seen by television. Four engineers were injured in this explosion and radiation levels outside the reactor rose to 1,015 microsievert, or the equivalent of being exposed to the maximum allowable level of radiation for a full year in a single day. Three days later another hydrogen explosion rocked the same facility, this time blowing out the roof of reactor #3. While more radioactive gas was released, levels are still not lethal.

The evacuation zone has been growing larger every day, now encompassing a 20-mile radius with over 200,000 people asked to evacuate. Remember, these are people who are in a disaster zone, trying to cope with the aftermath of this massive earthquake and ensuing tsunami.

Officials then took the unprecedented measure of flooding the reactor with salt water to cool the core down. This is akin to the Japanese waving a white flag. By using salt water, the reactor will never be operational again. That alone is a $1 billion loss.

If this doesn't work, the reactor’s fuel rods will reach such a high temperature that they would burn through the reactor walls — melting them down — and release potentially deadly radiation into the atmosphere. But a third reactor lost its emergency cooling system and Japanese officials said the fuel rods were exposed to air in all three reactors, causing a partial meltdown. They asked nuclear experts from the United States for help.


Ten days after the reactors failed, trace elements of radioactive iodine have been found in milk and spinach, near the nuclear facility and detectable levels of radiation are in the drinking water. These are just trace amounts and the Japanese government has indicated it will stop shipping these products. The radiation in their tap water is deemed insignificant.


It's important to remember that even if one of the reactors has a core meltdown, very little radiation may be released, like Three Mile Island. The worst possible scenario is if the radiation cannot be contained. Then massive amounts could be airborn to go wherever the wind currents flow.

Experts have upgraded this to the second-largest nuclear disaster in history. But we need to remember that both Chernobyl and Three Mile Island were caused in part by human negligence  - Chernobyl being an example of human stupidity on a massive scale.

When technicians at the Chernobyl, Ukraine reactor attempted run a systems test, they shut down the reactor's emergency water-cooling system, while allowing the reactor to run at very low power. A sudden power surge started a chain reaction in the core that went out of control. Several explosions and a large fireball blew off the heavy steel and concrete lid of the reactor. This released large amounts of radioactive materials into the atmosphere where it was carried over Ukraine, Belarus, and Russia with traces found as far away as Italy and France.

Two people died immediately from the explosion and 29 from radiation. 

About 200 others became seriously ill from the radiation; some of them later died. It was estimated that eight years after the  accident 8,000 people had died from diseases due to radiation (about 7,000 of them from the Chernobyl cleanup crew). Doctors estimate that 10,000 others will die from cancer.

The radioactive energy released at Chernobyl was two times bigger than that created by the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki during World War II.

Images of children born with deformed limbs still haunt us in the aftermath of the 1986 Chernobyl disaster.

Let's hope and pray that a similar situation does not occur in Japan.

Climbing Everest

For the last five months there has been little change to the frozen landscape outside my living room window. What was a welcome white Christmas has become a mind-numbing sea of snow. March has been a glacial wasteland in Calgary and even though I love winter, I am tired of pulling on and taking off layers of clothing, slipping on icy sidewalks and cracking through the frozen snow-crust with my boots.


My toes yearn to be set free from stifling socks, wool-lined slippers and sensible shoes. I need to walk barefoot in the grass, to feel the sun beating down on me, forcing me to 'cool off' with homemade ice cream. I need spring! But since I know that won't happen for weeks, or maybe even months, I need psychological help!

The best therapy for me is to ascend Everest once again. Yes, I've been reading Into Thin Air for the sixth or seventh time now. It haunts me, chills me to the core and puts these days in perspective.


I try and imagine being in Jon Krakauer's mountaineering boots. This award-winning journalist and mountain climber got the opportunity of a lifetime. In the spring of 1996, Outlook magazine sent him to Nepal to participate in and write about a guided ascent of Mount Everest. 

Although Krakauer made it to the 29,028-foot summit on May 10th and survived, it came at a terrible cost. Among the five members of his team who reached the top, the other four perished in a rogue storm that blew in without warning. By the time Krakauer made it back down to Base Camp, nine climbers from four expeditions were dead, and another three lives were lost before the month was out. Among those that perished high on the mountain were the two well-seasoned leaders of the largest expeditions.

On that fateful day, other climbers made it back to Camp Four, at 25,000 feet, but were either suffering from severe frostbite or life-threatening altitude sickness. Although mountaineers have developed a method of slowing acclimatizing themselves to high altitudes, people were never meant to live above 17,000 feet. At that altitude sleep becomes elusive, cuts and scrapes refuse to heal, the air is so thin you can feel like you're suffocating and just melting enough snow to keep hydrated is a chore. Rescue by helicopter is out of the question as the air is too insubstantial to provide much lift for the helicopter's rotors, making landing, taking off or merely hovering extremely hazardous.

The climbers who made it to Camp Four radioed Base Camp for help. The IMAX crew film was the first group that came to the rescue. Members of this crew were in Camp Two, making their way up the mountain to film EVEREST. David Breashears, leader of the IMAX expedition, immediately postponed their own summit plans to assist the striken climbers.

The IMAX film of this journey is disturbingly realistic. I've seen it numerous times and it makes you feel as if you are walking across the creaking icefalls, over gaping chasms, and around the dangerous, towering seracs. Only 40-minutes long, EVEREST takes you through the harrowing rescue and into the danger zone of oxygen-thin altitude.

Though many people died that day the most miraculous rescue was of Beck Weathers. The pathologist from Dallas was a member of Krakauer's team. Though he never made it to the top, Weathers became lost in the snow storm, never finding his way back to Camp Four. A Canadian climber searched for him and found him outside the camp, lying in the snow. Balls of ice were matted to his hair and eyelids; his right glove was missing and he had terrible frostbite. He was close to death and since they couldn't get him to move, Weathers was left outside overnight, in the freezing wind and cold, to die.

About 12 hours later Weathers' mind floated back to consciousness and he found the strength to stand and walk. Though his eyes were almost totally blinded by ice, he stumbled upon the tents in Camp Four and the exhausted climbers still there rallied to help him. Though Weathers was critically ill with ink-black frostbite covering his nose, cheeks and hands, David Breashears brought him down off the mountain and Weathers survived the ordeal.


Although I love heights and spent many glorious days in my youth climbing local 'mountains', I will only ever make the trek to Everest vicariously. But I understand the thrill of the ascent.

When my husband, Peter, climbs different peaks, he likes to phone me from the top, describing the view. But when he climbed Mount Rundle in Banff National Park, the message he left on our answering machine was harrowing. He was with his two nephews but they left far too late, he had hurt his ankle on the way up and though they were supposed to summit by noon, it was 3 pm when he called. On the message, the wind was blowing so hard I could hardly hear his voice. Then he groaned as he tried to lower himself down into a nook in the rocks where he could rest. He said he wasn't sure if he could make it down and thought he might have to spend the night at the summit.

I freaked out. He was out of food, almost out of water and totally unprepared for a frigid night on Rundle's unforgiving peak. I called his sister who was at the base of the mountain and her husband started up with fresh supplies. Peter called me back and said he was going to try to make it down. It was pitch black by the time he called to say he was safe. And Mount Rundle is only 9,672 feet high, a mere hill compared to Everest.

For those of you with some spare change and a hankering for heights, a group led by Rotarian adventurers from Calgary will be heading to the Everest Base Camp in 2012. At 17,600 feet, Base Camp provides a taste of high altitude and spectacular views of some of the tallest mountains in the world without the death factor of trying to summit. The Rotary Everest Trek 2012 also gives you an avenue to support a good cause. Nepal is one of the poorest countries in the world, so funds raised from this trek will help the Sir Edmund Hillary Foundation build a high school in the region. There's the option of a two-week Everest view trek or an three-week more intense Base Camp trek. For more information check out their site here. Happy climbing.

Mothers Live Forever

I dreamt about my Mother this morning. It was one of those reality-defying, vivid dreams right before waking that refuses to dissipate with the morning mist.

She and I had been to a church service and she was driving us home, both weary and hungry and needing an afternoon nap. I kept looking at her, touching her, amazed she was with me - breathing, laughing, alive.

The dream took on an Alice in Wonderland quality, featuring exploding-with-color scenery and animals acting like people. The seasons were overlapping, so even as purple crocuses, lemon-yellow daffodils, and red-lipstick tulips were reaching for the sun, the leaves on the trees were scarlet and sunset-orange, just starting their final flight to the earth.

As we were driving and chatting we saw three cats, holding paws, rise as one on their hind legs so they could practice walking upright. They were having so much fun, we laughed in delight at their attempt to be human. I grasped my Mom's hand and told her these were precious moments. I didn't know how much time we had left and wanted to burn every image into my memory forever.

She smiled at me, her sky-blue eyes shining with understanding. A Mother's love never dies...

I woke up to my husband's laughter. My Mom's best friend was on the phone, calling to celebrate the day. It was my Mom's birthday today. She would have been 84. She lived life with such zeal and zest, I expected her to live into her 90s. I needed her to live into her 90s...

She would call every Sunday afternoon and we would talk and laugh about our week. Now Sundays are never quite 'right' anymore. When she visited us, our kitchen would magically transform from grungy to spotless, all the holes in our clothes would be mended, and we would cook lavish meals for the simple joy of doing it together.

She taught me to cook as a young girl and there was nothing the two of us wouldn't tackle. From homemade bread, pizza, fruit pies and traditional Mennonite delicacies like perisky (pie-by-the-yard), to Chinese, Greek (calamari) and German dishes, my Mom and I conquered them all. When I cook now I conjure memories of our time together to make it seem less like work...

What I miss most is the mind-reading. She could tell how I was feeling even though we lived 800 kilometers apart. She would phone (on days that weren't Sundays) to ask what was wrong. We were so close, we felt each others pain. Just as now, I get glimpses of her joy...


My best friend grew up eating my Mom's perisky and asked my Mom to design her shining, satin wedding gown. Wendy wrote me this poem shortly after my Mom died. Through it she captured the trinity of our relationship - my Mom and I and He - her love for her Lord and her love for me.

Her work-weathered hands
Held yours, smooth, young,
And His, work-weathered, too,
Enfold the both of you.

Prayer, prayer
Always
His hand in hers,
And hers in His,
Moving
Over the dark face of the water
Chaos, fear,
Smoothed to ripples
Peace, be still, my daughter!

Always,

His heart in hers
And hers in His
Intertwined like careful stitching
Satin shining
His bride
Her heart on fire inside.

Always,
Her plans in His
And His in hers.
Deft fingers weed neat rows of sod
And seeds planted deep within you
Burst their casings, stretching up to God.
He smiles,
His garden well-tended.

Always,
Her work in Him
And His in her
Until
Her pastry-floured hands
Berry-stained
Lie still
And His, wood worker rough,
lift her gently to her
New home.

Her eyes shine in His
And His in hers
Together,
they reach the sky
and paint
sunsets in your favorite colors
Her whispers in His ear
Carry soft prayers,
Comfort in the night
Her hands softly stroke your shining hair.

Someday soon
It won't be long now,
Can't you smell the fresh cut timber?
Her work-weathered hands
Will reach for yours, smooth and young,
And His, work-weathered, too
Will enfold both of you
For always

I can hardly wait to enfold her work-weathered hands in my own again!
Do you treasure the moments you have with your Mother? What special memories do you have of her if she is gone?

Mangled Metaphors

These mangled metaphors have been sighted on blog posts, Facebook and Twitter. Falsely touted as coming from actual student essays, they are really part of the Washington Post's "Style Invitational," a long-running writers forum.

Not that published literature isn't rife with malodorous metaphors - just look at Stieg Larsson's best-selling trilogy starting with, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Main character, Mikael Blomkvist, has many great lines but one of my favorites is, "Martin was dafter than a syphilitic polecat..." But what can you expect from a character who states, "Sex has nothing to do with friendship."



And if you want some 'lines' that will get the attention of that 'significant other' in your life, have you tried:

• I love you like a fat kid loves cake.
• It's harder to pick your brain than it is a broken nose.
• It will take a big tractor to plow the fertile fields of your mind.
• I appreciate you more than an extra slice of bacon on a BLT.
• You look about as happy as a penguin in a microwave.
• You're like a couch potato in the gravy boat of life.
• You and I are like branches on a tree. But sometimes one branch needs to die so the tree can live.

Okay, so maybe you'll want to hold off on using some of these lines if you want your relationship to last...

Here are some of the winners from the Style Invitational. Can you top these?

1. She grew on him like a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature

Canadian beef.

2. She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.

3. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently
compressed by a Thigh Master.

4. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like
underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just
before it throws up.

6. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

7. Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any PH cleanser.

8. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

9. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie,
surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy
comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

10. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

11. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry
them in hot grease.

12. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had
also never met.

13. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one
that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

14. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

15. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this
plan just might work.

16. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating
for a while.

17. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a
real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or
something.

18. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg
behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

19. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with
power tools.

20. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if
she were a garbage truck backing up.