I used to do some graphic work at my old job, but I haven’t done anything for someone else in a while so I decided to revisit some old typography posters that I had on my desktop. I’m rusty when it comes to Photoshop, but hopefully this will help ease me back into the habit. Now I just gotta hone my texture skills.
… I heard a news story the other day about how fast food wasn’t so fast anymore. Then, this happened.
I drive an SUV and I find it necessary to reduce my carbon footprint whenever possible.
I recycle on a regular basis, use Green Canteens and filtered water, and take short showers.
(I know the last two are essentially water conservation, but it’s important.)
Now I got one of the those hot and cold reusable mugs from an weekend getaway and as I taking it out of the plastic bag, I saw this.
This little sliver of paper telling to me reuse the $8 mug I just bought and to reduce waste.
… Seriously, little innocuous sliver of paper? You’re the one being wasteful by making me recycle you and discard of your plastic bag. It would’ve been more environmentally friendly if you never existed in the first place, but it’s cool. You’re going to the trash where you can be turned into a t-shirt and I don’t have to put up with your judgment.
I miss my dog.
It just occurred to me that the two year anniversary of when we had to put him down due to his fledging health is right around the corner.
Around this time in 2011 (the lead picture is about six months prior) he got into some heavy chocolate and sugar cake.
Normally, he could eat it without any complications; he had an iron stomach. Seriously. It’s not like we purposefully fed him fast food or sugary foods or anything, but whenever he would steal dinners from us, it never negatively affected him.
He was Elvis, Master of the Iron Stomach.
However, after eating that dessert he started acting really strange. He started staying outside longer, sleeping more often, and I had to drag him into the house from the backyard on several occasions.
Then, my dad and I found him in the basement on the cold cement floor just lying there. He wasn’t letting us get near him. We finally took him to the ER vet for testing after an arduous lifting process from the basement to my truck.
After several tests were completed, the doctor told us that Elvis had developed severe diabetes, kidney failure, and pancreas problems. We were at a loss. It just happened so suddenly and he was only five when all of these issues came up out of nowhere.
The doctor told us to wait a few more days before we made any decisions. That was Sunday afternoon.
By Tuesday morning we were told that euthanization was the kindest thing to do. He was no longer stable and was not recovering.
My dad and I went to the hospital, spent a good 10 minutes saying our goodbyes, crying the whole time, then the doctor came in and gave him the shot. It took less than 25 percent of what was necessary for him to go meaning he was already verge and we gave him the necessary nudge.
I still cry thinking about that day.
We tearfully watched them cart away his body knowing we’d get him back in a giant wooden box. We paid the bill, went home and did what all people do in times of despair: we each took a carton of ice-cream and watch our favorite TV shows.
I made the phone calls to the family members. They all offered their condolences, like you do when something terrible happens.
When my mom came home from work, she started to cry and we had a TV style family hug in our kitchen.
I miss him. I miss my dog who used to think it was OK to climb onto the couch with me while I was napping on a summer afternoon even though he never fit. I miss the overly excited welcome whenever I came home from college. I miss the dog breath whenever he kissed me.
I miss my buddy. I just wish I got to spend more time with him.
I love you, Elvis.