old dog in an old chair. the old man's old chair
I grow old . . . I grow old . . .I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.–T.S.Eliot

Sophia’s age-mate Rita died yesterday. Great sadness.
Rita and Elaine

Author: WmX

I stumbled off the track to success in 1968, started chasing shadows that summer. Since then, In addition to farm-laborer and newspaper photographer my occupational incarnations include dishwasher, janitor, retail photo clerk, plumber, HVAC repairman, auto mechanic, CAT scan technologist, computer worker and politico (whatever it takes to buy a camera.) I am on the road to understanding black and white photography.

One thought on “senescence”

  1. How sad. I remember when Rita when she was first adopted. She was a mess, but with love, persistence and sisterhood, she became a fine and bold little dog. She will be missed.

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