overheard at a holiday party

"Not to be crass, but if someone's got to fuck my daughter, it might as well be this guy."

in memory of Mr. Handsome

He was not a well-behaved dog.


He ate all he could, as well as many things he couldn't.



He was flatulent.


And like a certain ex-girlfriend, who shall here remain nameless, he required a lot of pills -- demanded not just "high maintenance," but constant vigilance.

And yet Korby was an important member of my family, a witness to and participant in almost every major event in my brother's life. My brother's happy engagement and even happier marriage -- his move from the "starter" house to the "settled" house -- the birth of my nephew -- our family's still-unfinished grieving after the death of my father -- "What about the dog," Korby's grandfather used to sing: "What about the dog, he saw it all!"

I take some comfort in the knowledge that Korby was a very lucky dog. It isn't just that he died from what he lived for -- overeating. It's that my brother and my sister-in-law rescued him from a shelter, from where few older dogs are ever adopted -- rescued him and then wrapped him in love for the rest of his life.

Though it is unlikely that my nephew will remember his first canine brother, he will grow up in the happy home that Korby helped to create. For that, Mr. Handsome, I thank you.