Last summer, my brother Donovan gave Harley dog a bright red frisbee that GE gave him. My brother worked at GE 21 years before his retirement. We used to joke about how back in the day, you got a gold watch on retirement, now you get a red frisbee. Things must be really tough for GE.
Harley LOVES that red frisbee. At the time Harley had a cheap pink frisbee, that was hard to throw. Harley loved my brother Donovan and when he gave him the red frisbee, he ceased playing with the cheap pink one. Matter of fact the pink one vanished. I think Harley buried it.
Donovan was impressed that a 6 pound dog would fetch a full sized frisbee and bring it back to be tossed again. I was bad at throwing it, but Donovan watched me, then explained how to use my wrist to throw it expertly. Harley was thrilled because often he was on a super long tether he had to drag around while chasing his frisbee, so having it land somewhere he could reach was pure doggone happiness.
This past fall, at Hunting Island, the beloved frisbee landed in the ocean. Harley cried loudly! He tried to swim for it but the water was too cold for his tiny body. Some kids swam after it and returned it to Harley who promptly quit whining and literally jumped for joy.
My brother Donovan managed to redezvoux with us at Hunting Island several times over the past few years. Sadly, he didn't make it this fall. But Harley and I played frisbee at the beach every single day.
Whenever Donovan would visit one of my campsites, Harley would plop the red frisbee down at his feet. Let's play! Donovan found it so comical that Harley remembered him for the cherished red frisbee.
Since my brother passed away a few days ago, I haven't been able to play frisbee with Harley. It just makes me too sad. Harley is begging and beseeching for our daily game.
One day soon, I will play frisbee again. Just not today.
So I let Harley drive the motorhome instead.
My brother managed to visit me three times in the Caribbean when I was working and living there for a few decades. Even though he didn't like having his picture taken, he would occasionally pose for one. In this picture, we are on the north shore of Tortola in the Caribbean at the Bomba Shack. I often went there to watch the surfers.
My brother happily plopped down in a hammock at Bomba's saying "Take my picture!"
Rest in Peace, Donovan, 1957-2015
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