David Taylor

My father passed away 18 years ago today. March 21st usually provides mild weather, and the opportunity to have a picnic at my dad's grave. This gives a nice chance to remember my dad, and talk with Nancy.

For example, a look at 2005:


Of course, Nancy never knew my dad, and so I try to tell her a "David Story" each time we visit his grave.

While performing "kitty patrol" this morning, I started thinking about sharing a "David Story" with all of you. So, I hope you enjoy it. My memory hasn't retained all the specifics, but I at least know the basics. My mom says she doesn't remember this at all.

My mom used to prepare David a sack lunch to take to work each day. She put his food items in a classic brown paper sack. Nothing remarkable, just a plain brown sack lunch.


I don't know what happened on the day of this story, but something went wrong. Wires got crossed somehow, and my dad ended up grabbing his sack lunch from off the railing that surrounded our garage landing (our garage had steps, that led up to the kitchen door).

My dad's day proceeded normally until lunch time. While sitting with co-workers he opened up his sack lunch, and exclaimed, "I have a bag of cat shit for lunch!"

Yes my friends, my dad had unknowingly grabbed a sack of Fred's poop. I used to clean out Fred's litter box, and place the *ahem* in a lunch bag. Oft times, I didn't fill it all the way up, so I would fold over the top, and place it on the railing for next time.


I can't help but giggle thinking about my dad sitting at that lunch table with a sack of Fred's poop.

I love you dad, and thanks for a good laugh!