Dordrecht Harbor, 1899,
Colin Campbell Cooper,
oil on canvas.
Thank you all again for your comforting comments, your concern and good wishes.
He's resting uncomfortably, ie. still in considerable pain, but marginally more mobile.
I can no longer carry baby kangeroos in the pouches under my eyes.
And the wolfling pack, Lahini's pride, who took trail in the moonlight as soon as the Call went out, have departed to their respective lairs.
While waiting for the canine unit, the attending officers ran sirens and made occasional use of the bullhorn. He could hear them but could not respond.
So, of course, we later manufactured imaginary, smart-ass, cathartic dialogue, along the lines of :You have to count to one hundred frst, Rover, Red Rover, Come and get me, copman, etc.
Sorry for the short and personal post. Am still a bit brain-dead.
Have I said that I wuvs cops?