For a semi-retired guy, I sure keep gaining job titles…

Caretaker. Security guard. Gamekeeper. Now I’m the sexton.

Got an email from Landlady yesterday evening. One of the original cats, who’s been living in the city, has finally found it in her geriatric heart to croak. All the original animals (except Click, whom I mistakenly buried near the Secret Lair) are supposed to go on Boot Hill around T’s grave.

No, I'm not making this up.

No, I’m not making this up.

And they all get little markers.

And they all get little markers.


Except the MIAs, of course, which I suppose would include Click. For them, Landlady has a memorial wall planned. Oh, sure, I hear you snickering over there. Get your own graveyard, and you can run it any way you want.

So anyway. Email. This involved old Uncle Joel putting the boys and some tools in the Jeep early, while it’s still cool.
100_4334

On the diagram (Yes, there’s a diagram) she sent me, there’s even a space for Uncle Joel…I guess because I’m one of the original animals.

I even get an attendant dog. Be on your best behavior, Little Bear.

I even get an attendant dog. Be on your best behavior, Little Bear.


I don’t know how to break it to her, but since I seem unlikely to achieve immortality through my art, I plan to take Woody Allen’s path to immortality through not dying.

Of course this is the Gulch’s boot hill, so it serves double duty.

That's the 400-yard range marker. Playing through!

That’s the 400-yard range marker. Playing through!

About Joel

You shouldn't ask these questions of a paranoid recluse, you know.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to For a semi-retired guy, I sure keep gaining job titles…

  1. MamaLiberty says:

    Grave sites for critters of all kinds remain in most of the places where I’ve lived, though never any humans. However, my mother was cremated and her ashes were scattered over a beautiful rock formation here on my Wyoming property. The dog cemetery around that already has two occupants. In the S. Calif. desert where I built my home, I found the skeleton of a horse when I went to dig holes for a line of new trees. The trees did exceptionally well. :)

  2. Robert says:

    “there’s even a space for Uncle Joel…I guess because I’m one of the original animals.” Lessee, everytime you dig a hole, somebody/thing dies. She’s having you dig your own hole. If I were you, I’d politely decline to go hunting with her. I’m sure I’m reading too much into this. Right?

  3. Having a decent grave for an animal that was a good friend helps a fellow get past it. My ferrets don’t live long lives, so I have to deal with losing them from time to time. I don’t forget them but it helps to know they have a decent final resting place. It’s good of you to help the old lady out with that.

  4. coloradohermit says:

    I don’t think it’s any more odd or unusual than our shelf lined with little urns containing the cremains of our last 5 furbabies, waiting to be mixed in with me and/or DH. They didn’t like each other much so the mixing will have to wait til one of us is with them to supervise.

To the stake with the heretic!