Comic Books, Super-Heroes and Me: **Phase 2 MARVELous Days 1973 -1978

About the same time I started college, I picked up a copy of Dracula Lives #2 at Toler Pharmacy. Dracula Lives was a Black and White anthology of sequential art stories based on Count Dracula. It also had some nonfiction Dracula related material presented also. It was published by Marvel Comics. I didn't know it, but Marvel had been presenting Dracula in comic book form since early 1972 in Tomb of Dracula. This second issue of Dracula Lives presented an origin story for Dracula written by Marv Wolfman and the art was supplied by Neal Adams.

The origin was an excellent plausible explanation for Vlad Tepes introduction to vampirism and the art by Adams was fantastic. I wanted more. I soon discovered Tomb of Dracula also written by Wolfman and illustrated by Gene Colan. The cast of characters in conflict with the count and the stories made for fun reading. There was something about this comic book line that kept you wanting to come back for more. Marvel interjected a soap opera element that would carry over from issue to issue.

My trips to Haag drugstore and Toler subjected me to many other four color treasures on display. My curiosity of what was offered in the super-hero books I'd loved when I was younger got the better of me. Besides, it was chic to read comics if you were a college kid. At least that was what people like Stan Lee were saying. I quickly came to understand the Marvel Comic line treated its readership more like adults. They had also found the way to hook the readership to come back each month. It was the soap opera element.

Chief among the comics I was most interested in was the Spider-Man line. I started with Amazing Spider-Man but I also found Marvel Tales which was a reprint comic of earlier Amazing Spider-Man issues. It took awhile to figure out how the continuity linked but I managed. Marvel soon introduced a new Spider-Man title, Peter Parker The Spectacular Spider-Man. I started picking up Amazing shortly after Gwen Stacy's death, probably around issue 128. I can't recall where I began Marvel Tales but it was in those comics I learned all the necessary history of Spider-man's life including his love for Gwen Stacy, his friendships with Mary Jane and Harry not to mention his battles with Norman Osborn the Green Goblin and the likes of the Kingpin. It was in these stories I was treated to the amazing run Stan Lee and John Romita produced. The ongoing storyline was engaging and the art by Romita is classic. His depiction of Gwen and Mary Jane made it hard for any real life girl to measure up to a Spiderman reader's desires. Marvel Tales helped make since of what was going on in the 2 ongoing titles.

I became reacquainted with most of the other Marvel Super-heroes via Spiderman's exploits in Marvel Team Up, an ongoing series of self contained stories usually involving Spiderman. Soon, I found myself buying Daredevil, Captain America as well as team books like The Avengers and The Fantastic Four.

I can't remember the first issue I bought of Conan The Barbarian by Roy Thomas and John Buscema. I had been interested in Conan since reading some of Robert E Howards works reprinted in paperback. I couldn't stop reading Conan after Roy Thomas introduced Belit into the storyline. I still consider this ongoing saga one of the best extended runs in comic book history.

It could be my first Conan wasn't the comic book but another of Marvel's Black & White Magazines The Savage Sword of Conan. Like Dracula Lives, I was attracted to these productions and bought other Marvel Black and Whites like The Rampaging Hulk and Vampire Tales.

In 1976 the first oversized comic book was introduced- Superman vs The Amazing Spider-Man. This "treasury sized" edition was the first cross-over put out between competing companies DC and Marvel. The cover claimed .

"THE GREATEST HERO TEAM-UP OF ALL TIME"

"THE BATTLE OF THE CENTURY"

It was written by Gerry Conway and illustrated by Ross Andru. Both had worked on each character previously.

A fairly good plot summary can be found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Superman_vs._the_Amazing_Spider-Man

DC and Marvel would follow up with Batman vs The Incredible Hulk in the same format. The format would soon be used to reprint Golden Age Comics by DC but otherwise didn't catch on.

I found a copy of Jim Steranko's The Steranko History of the Comics vol 1 which detailed comic book origins from the newstrips to the pulp magazines and wonderfully discussed the Golden Age of Comics. The pages were filled with photos of covers from the 30s and 40s. Though I figured it would be impossible to buy golden age comics, the book inspired me to search out older back issues of comics.

(The front and back cover art for Steranko's Book)

It was also during this period comic book shops began to appear. I began frequenting a small shop on West Washington Street. It was there I found a copy of the magazine sized The Spectacular Spiderman which had come out in 1968. It had a wonderful painted cover with color interior pages and the story "The Goblin Lives" became a favorite of mine.

http://www.samruby.com/Series/Magazine/specmag02.htm

I went to my first comic book convention in 1977. It was held in Indianapolis and Stan Lee was the guest. I purchased a copy of Daredevil #2 at the convention. It cost me $10.00 and I had Stan Lee sign it. At another Comic show I splurged. I had become fascinated with Golden Age comics. I found a mint copy of Captain America #50. It cost me $50. I was becoming a proud collector.

The "hot" comic book during the summer of 77 was the first issue of Star Wars. it came out about the same time as the movie and like the movie was a big hit. I never bought a copy and I didn't see the movie until late in its run. All the talk was Star Wars and I felt a little left out.

There were some live action super-heroics displayed on our TV sets during this period. The pilot of "The Hulk" TV series was shown in 1977. Lou Feringo played the Hulk and Bill Bixby played his alter ego, Dr. David (instead of Bruce)Banner. The show was popular and it seemed alot like the old program The Fugitive but this time with the twist that the hunted could turn green and mean. Spider-man got his Live Action show starring Nicholas Hammond as Peter Parker/ Spider-man. It would only last 13 episodes. Wonder Woman starring Linda Carter lasted 3 seasons, but I wasn't interested. How could I not have been interested? I don't know.

Judy and I had only been married a year and a half when the year 1978 rolled around. She had been supportive of, though not really interested in, my comic book collecting. I finished doing our taxes for the year and was shocked to find out we owed the government nearly a thousand dollars. We didn't have that much money. I looked at my comic book collection and resigned myself to the need to put them up for sale. I wasn't as devastated as I could have been. A year earlier I had become a Christian, and I was able to be thankful for a way to come up with the money we needed. I also had been spending more time reading doctrinal books and Bible study material reducing the amount of time I had for reading comics. I was disheartened, however.
Again, I swore off buying comics. The sale of my collection destroyed my desire to stay in touch on a monthly basis with the characters I enjoyed so much. I did see the Superman movie that summer, but beyond that it would be nearly be a decade before my interest in Super-heroes would be reignited.

Comic Books, Super-Heroes and Me: **Phase 1: The Early Years

Sometimes after making my Wednesday purchase of new comic books, I wonder what I'm doing.

Most comics now cost $2.99 -$3.99 each. It doesn't take long to run up quite a bill. And what do I do with these illustrated marvels? After reading them, they get bagged up, placed in an acid free box and stored away in a temperature controlled dry room. Any particular comic may never be looked at again. Ah, the joys of collecting.

I will pause on this and think back to what comic books have meant to me over my life and then realize they have been an integral part providing many memories and much enjoyment.

My earliest comic book memories date back to the the early 60s. I was a young boy of 7 or 8 years old when our family would visit my grandparents every Sunday in Plainfield, Indiana. My Grandmother would fix up a big fried chicken dinner for everyone and she would give my sister and I a quarter each along with a box of Cracker Jack or a small bag of potato chips. I would promptly run down to the corner Rexall Drug Store and buy a couple of comic books or if I wanted to splurge and had a few more cents available, I'd pick up the latest Famous Monsters of Filmland Magazine.

I can't remember the first comic book I purchased but I do remember buying

Amazing Fantasy 15 off the newstand. I debated whether to buy it because the price was 12 cents rather than the 10 cents I was used to spending. But that cover introducing Spider-Man sold me.

I can conjure up memories of reading Amazing Spider-Man 4 with Sandman while I was sitting on the stairway leading up to my grandmother's apartment. Elektro became a favorite villain when I read through the 9th issue of Amazing Spiderman. It would take awhile before he was replaced by The Green Goblin.

Spider-Man was definitely a favorite. A teen-age hero who wasn't a side kick but the main guy was exciting. He struggled with all the problems other kids had and he was easy to relate to. To this day, my since of responsibility continues to be the virtue that drives me most. I learned it in the pages of Amazing Spider-Man. "With great power, there must also come great responsibility"-- Uncle Ben Parker Amazing Fantasy 15

As much as I enjoyed Spider-Man and the other early Marvel Comics with the dose of realism they provided, my favorite comics were put out by DC. These were the icons. I had been buying Superman, Batman and The Justice League before I bought Marvel and they are still my favorites. When Superman and Batman teamed up in World's Finest Comics, I thought I was getting something special. It was like getting double the value for my 12 cents. World's Finest 139 "The Ghost of Batman" and Worlds Finest 142 featuring the first Composite Superman story stand out vividly. The Composite Superman was especially cool as he was a caretaker of the Superman Museum when a Lightning Bolt struck the statuettes of the Legion of Super-heroes releasing their energy into his body. He uses the power of Chamelion Boy to alter his appearance into the Composite Superman and forces Superman, Batman & Robin into a partnership and then seeks to end their careers as heroes.

If having Superman and Batman teamed up in the same comic wasn't good enough, I could always turn to the Justice League of America. The combination of Super-heroes interacting with one another was always a book I looked forward to. One particular issue, number 30, introduced a team of Super Villains who were alternates of the heroes I was familiar with. These characters from Earth 3 provided an interesting twist to the ongoing teamups with super-heroes from the golden age with the current incarnations. Ultraman countered Superman, Owlman was Batman's doppleganger. Power Ring and Superwoman were Green Lantern and Wonder Woman's counterparts. These matchups have continued into the modern day most recently in an animated movie released on DVD entitled "Crisis On Two Earths".

During those days Superman remained my favorite character. I loved the imaginary stories like "The Sons of Superman" featured in Superman 166. This story took place in the future telling the tale of Superman's sons Jor-El II and Kal-El II. Superman's wife is never identified. She is only visualized in silhouette. Jor-El II had super powers like his father and Kal-El II did not. Superman tried various methods to enable him with powers also. Both boys were later taken to the bottle city of Kandor to receive a Kryptonian education. Of course, there neither boy had super-powers, and while there they learned of the exploits of Nightwing and Flamebird- crime fighters of Krypton. Superman and Jimmy Olsen had taken on these identities in earlier adventures. The boys have an adventure of their own disguised as the new Nightwing and Flamebird. The villain they battle frees himself from the bottled city and the boys must follow. Monsters are unleashed and Superman and young Jor-El use their powers to fight the threat and young Kal-El is unable to assist due to his lack of powers but later Kal has to find a way to save Superman and Jor-El who are dying in a kryptonite trap. Kal recues them and no longer feels inferior to them because of his lack of super powers.

The following issue #167 features one of my favorite Curt Swan Superman covers of all time. Lex Luther and Brainiac have Superman shrunk down, trapped in a canary cage.

Superman never seemed to disappoint me. In addition to the comics was The Adventures of Superman TV show. I remember rushing home after school to watch it, along with Sergeant Preston of the Yukon and The Lone Ranger. It was Superman I wanted to see the most. I would recite along with the introduction as the music played and a streak of light surged across a body of planets exploding into the Title:

"Faster than A Speeding Bullit

More Powerful Than Locomotive

Able to Leap Tall Buildings in a Single Bound

Look Up In The Sky!

It's a Bird!

It's a Plane!

It's Superman!"

Yes, It's Superman Strange visitor From Another Planet Who Came to Earth With Powers and Abilities Far Beyond Those of Mortal Man

Superman, Who Can Change the Course of Mighty Rivers

Bend Steel In His Bare Hands

And Who Disguised as Clark Kent, Mild Mannered Reporter For A Great Metropolitan Newspaper

Fights the Never Ending Battle For Truth, Justice And The American Way!

These adventures remain for me the best non animated depiction of the Man of Steel (with only Smallville rivaling but because Superman hasn't been introduced, only Clark Kent, I don't really count it) and George Reeve's portrayal of Clark Kent is much better than any of the movie versions.

Interest in girls didn't fully blossom until many years later, but I do remember some form of infatuation with the opposite sex beginning around kindergarten. I contribute this to the girls of the Legion of Super-Heroes. There was just something about these beautiful girls in costume displaying super powers. I'll let someone else try and analyse a first grader's interest in Triplicate Girl.

By fifth grade the campy Batman TV show was all the rage. I didn't want to miss an episode. My friends and I would dress up as super-heroes. Mark Kasting always wanted to be Batman. I didn't mind being Robin. I could relate to him better and I thought Robin was cooler. We had to watch Batman on my parents old Black & White TV and I was always jealous of those with color sets. One Wednesday evening, my folks were invited over to some friends of the family for dinner. I reluctantly had to go along fearful I would miss my favorite show. To my great joy we were able to watch Batman in color over at their house. Ah, the memories.

I sent away for autographed photos of Adam West and Burt Ward as the dynamic duo and other memorabila, but the coolest 1966 item I collected was a set of Topps Batman cards illustrated by Norm Saunders. When I had collected all but one of the cards in the set, I found another guy who had the card I needed. He told me I would have to walk to school on my knees in order for him to give me the card. I swallowed my pride and payed the price. He got his amusement, I completed the set

To my regret, I didn't consider collecting comics back in those days. I would read them a time or two, put them into a pile until it built up and then with a friend, Paul Stergar, we would lug them around the neighborhood selling them for a nickel apiece. What we collected was baseball cards and we used our nickels to buy packs of ball cards with a stick of gum. By the end of grade school, I had tired of comics and before I started high school I had also given my entire collection of baseball cards to Paul. (The collection of cards included multiple Mickey Mantle cards from nearly every year and many many more.) Paul probably got rich from the cards we collected.

My interest in Comic books would revive about the time I started college. More later.

Haunted Indiana 2: Stepp Cemetery & 100 Step Cemetery

On a tour of Haunted Indiana about 20 years ago, Chuck Jones and I concluded our trip with my first visit to Stepp Cemetery. This quaint graveyard is situated in the middle of the Morgan Monroe State Forest.

The legend of Stepp Cemetery has many variations but the constant seems to be centered around a woman in black who comes and sits at a tree stump watching over the grave of her dead daughter. In the version we knew, a couple was parked on a road in the forest. The girl had a 12 Midnight curfew and time was running out. They hastily drove through the winding rodes of the park in order to get the girl home on time. After taking a hair pin turn at high speed, the car wrecked and the girl was decapitated in the accident and her head was never found. The mother of the girl insisted the details of her daughter's death be kept secret. The details wouldn't be revealed until 4 years later when the mother died. Shortly after that another couple was parked off the road near the path leading back to the cemetery and alerted by noises in the road ahead they looked up and screamed seeing a gnarled old woman wearing only black. Hung around her neck was the beaten and bruised head of a young girl. After this, other couples would report seeing the same woman.

The other story we heard was about a wife guarding her husband's grave. The man had died while working in the forestry and was buried in the graveyard and she would come out every night and sit at the grave site before and after she too died.

There have been people testify they have seen the woman in black come out of the woods seat herself on a tree stump near her loved one's grave and guard the grave patiently.

Some other local lore centers around a religious cult called the "Crabbites" being connected to the graveyard. This now defunct cult was said to hold sex orgies and snake handling rituals in the cemetery.

Chuck and I were quite impressed by the cemetery. After a short walk down a path in the woods the woods opens up into the cemetery hollowed out of the forest. It was eerie being surrounded by trees and then to look up and see an open expanse of sky with clouds rolling over. We looked at many of the ancient crumbling tomb stones as well as those more modern day. We started feeling uneasy when we found "satanic " appearing emblems etched into trees. Our imaginations conjured up black mass rituals being conducted at night. We opted to leave early and not stay in the cemetery til midnight in hopes of getting a glimpse of the woman in black as we had intended.


About six years ago, I took my sons, Jason and Kyle to Stepp Cemetery and told them the lore of the graveyard. Kyle was about 15 or 16 and Jason a year and half his junior. We arrived in the late evening and duplicated the trip I took with Chuck. We found the old stump and grave where the old woman was rumored to sit and an area of the ground nearby had been charred by fire. We were determined to wait until night fall. Kyle wanted to hike in the woods so, we followed a trail that circled the graveyard through the woods and then veered off deeper into the forest. I tried to frighten the boys with made up sightings of the "Crabbites" and how it would be so easy for them to exist like some inbred monstosities from a horror movie. I had intentionally shown them The Blair Witch Project the night before to set the stage for this haunted evening. Little did I know it would turn out so frightening.

We had ventured too deep into the woods when we noticed we running out of daylight. We had brought flashlights along intending to use them in the graveyard after dark. I warned the boys to use the light sparingly as we were sure to run out of daylight deep in the woods and we wood need the light from our flashlights to get out. While we were trying to decide whether to continue on our path with the hopes of reaching the road or turning around and going back in the direction we had travelled, we came upon a large cross erected in the woods at the edge of the trail. After tales of the "Crabbites" and seeing the objects hanging in the trees in the movie the night before, it wasn't a leap for the boys imaginations to go from "tales of ghosts and goblins" to a since of very real danger.

Kyle was the first to break down and cry. He was scared- nearly panic stricken. Jason began to chime in, "I want to go home." Darkness descended. I made the decision to turn around and go back the way we had come. Better to face a path we were familiar with than the unknown, even though it might take longer to reach our destination. I went from trying to frighten the boys to hoping to calm and reassure them. We stopped and prayed asking God for His protection and help finding our way back. Kyle, who was very overweight at the time, was exhausted and having a difficult time keeping up with the pace. We slowed so he wouldn't feel abandoned.

(The Face of Fear)

The darkness turned pitch, deep in the woods. The flashlights would have to remain on. Surely the batteries would hold out til we reached safety. It didn't seem to take as long as we thought it would before we reached a familiar hill and judging the time it took and the directions we had travelled, I felt if we climbed up this hill we should emerge in Stepp Cemetery. After ascending the hill and weaving our way through some trees, we found ourselves in the graveyard. We all felt relief. I wanted to take some night time pictures while in the grave yard but the boys pleaded to go home. They had enough thrills for one night. So, we made our way back to the car and left for home.

A couple of years later Jason wanted to go on a Haunted Indiana expedition and we took our friend Matt Brubaker along. Our first stop was the Haunted Bridge of Danville and then we drove out to Brazil, Indiana to visit 100 Step Cemetery and Hell's Gate.

We arrived at 100 Step Cemetery after a long drive out in the "boonies". The cemetery sits on top of a hill and broken stone stairs lead up the hill.The legend of 100 Step Cemetery centers around counting the steps as you ascend and then when you reach the top you are to look toward the open field. At this point the ghost of the cemetery's first undertaker is supposed to appear and show you a vision of your death. When you go back down the steps you are to count the steps again and if the number is different you will indeed die the death you saw. If you don't use the steps on your descent then you will be struck down by a phantom hand and your back will be imprinted by the slap branding you with the mark of the devil. We stayed a short while, went up and down the steps; none of us counted the steps identically and none of us arrived at the same number up and down. We estimated the real number of steps was between 45 and 50. We weren't greeted by an undertaker either. We decided to leave and come back after dark.

We stopped and ate and after darkness fell we first went to Hell's Gate. Legend has it that a train derailment brought a host of spirits to this place. You are to drive your car into a single lane tunnel, stop the car and flash the lights 3 times then go on through, turn around and go back through and stop midway in the tunnel. At this point you are to turn the lights out and wait 10 minutes. When you turn the lights back on, the graffite on the walls is supposed to glow and blood is to run down the walls. It was a very cool location. The seldom travelled road emptys into a single lane tunnel and it was nearly impossible and was extremely dangerous carrying out the task. NO Glow. NO Blood.

We did run into another group while we were there and they decided to join us on our return to 100 Step Cemetery. The cemetery itself was quite old and creepy particularly at night. The most unusual thing we saw in the cemetery was somebody's shoes tied up in a tree, but no ghosts. In fact, it turned out to be a fun exploration at night.



Before leaving, we found what appeared to be a sunken grave site. I thought I might take a little rest and reclined in the spot as the others looked on.

Could this be the vision of my death because I didn't count the same number of steps on the way down?

Remembering Tristan

The other night, Judy and I had friends over and we watched Marley & Me. We had seen the film in the theatre when it came out, enjoyed it immensely in spite of the emotional pain we suffered during the ending, and bought the DVD when it became available. We hadn't watched the DVD since purchasing it because there was always someone unwilling to subject themself to the emotions they knew were inevitable. This is not a review of the film. At the conclusion of the movie, my friend John Hale suggested I write something about my dogs in my blog.

One of the reasons Marley & Me is so painful for me to watch is it reminds me so much of our lives with Tristan, a Golden Retriever we welcomed into our lives during the summer of 1989.

(Tristan, our pick of the litter )

Earlier in 89, Judy and I both read the Dean Koontz novel Watchers. The book was about a genetically enhanced Golden Retriever named Einstein. Koontz who owned a Golden himself, characterized the dog so richly, we fell in love with the breed. At the time, Judy and I had no children (at least not human kids); we had two Lhasa Apso's, Seth and Jasmine. We found a breeder of Goldens in Danville and after much deliberation we brought Tristan home. We named him after the younger Farnon brother played by Peter Davison on the BBC series based on the James Herriot novel All Creatures Great and Small.

(Jasmine, Judy, Seth and Me)

It didn't take long for us to find out how much Tristan liked the water. We put a big bowl of water out for the dogs to drink while they played outside. Tristan climbed into the bowl to cool off time and time again. We soon bought a small child's swimming pool for his enjoyment which he played in for years.

(Cooling off)

It wasn't long before we were taking Tristan out to Eagle Creek Park where we would find a hideaway in a secluded part of the reservoir and go swimming. More than any other activity, I believe this is what Tristan enjoyed doing most.

Tristan was a beautiful Golden. He had a rich golden, feathered coat and he would eventually grow to weigh 95 pounds, large by Golden standards and I would best describe him as majestic. Large dogs can't be allowed to jump up on people and we knew it would be essential to have him go through some obedience training. During his first year with us, Tristan was quite the rowdy one. We had to pull him out of K-9 College because he played too rough during breaks. Another dog had to have stitches due to Tristan's roughhousing. We had to break down and have a trainer come to our home and teach him as well as Judy and myself the basics of obedience. This time he graduated and the training proved worthwhile particularly when he was away from home for when he was in a strange place all I needed to do was whisper a command and He promptly followed direction.

But there was one instance when Tristan showed instincts and intelligence beyond the scope of training. Shortly after we adopted Jason, he was two and a half and Tristan was 3 years old, we all went up to my aunt's house in the country. Bushes, chicken coops, tractors, wagons, there was much for a toddler to get into while Jason explored my aunt's backyard. Being the protective father I started to run out to make sure Jason didn't get into anything dangerous. Aunt Barbara stopped me and told me to watch. Tristan had gone with Jason, and I was amazed how he instinctively protected our newly adopted son. Everytime Jason approached an object, Tristan would step in between the boy and what he was investigating. Tristan would look it over, sniff it and then let Jason approach if it was safe. One time Barbara's Great Dane came over toward them, Tristan stepped forward and more or less herded the bigger dog away. Barbara's dog was gentle but big and clumsy. Tristan didn't want anything to accidently happen to Jason.

(Tristan relaxing at Aunt Barbara's)

Jason and Tristan had a special relationship. He was great with Kyle also but He and Jason bonded. Jason constantly laid on top of, plopped on and one time jumped on Tristan from the couch while the dog was sleeping. That incident cost Jason a couple of stitches as Tristan reflexively snapped at the unexpected intrusion of his sleep. In spite of that Jason and Tristan had a true "boy and his dog relationship". Tristan slept in Jason's lower bunk most nights and to this day Jason's most precious possesion is Tristan's collar.

(Jason with his dog)

(Jason & Tristan in Gatlinburg Tenn)

(Kyle and Tristan)

It gave us great pleasure to give Tristan things he loved. Tennis balls, rawhide chews and many assortments of food. He was a chip hound. It was impossible for me to eat potato chips without him begging for a few. He balnced his diet though as Tristan loved apples. Our next door neighbor's yard had an apple tree which dropped apples in our yard every fall. Fortunately, He never got sick from the large quantity of apples he consumed.

(Judy spoiling our growing Golden)

When winters rolled around, Tristan enjoyed water then as much as he did during the summer. This time it was in the form of snow. Whether it was just catching snow balls tossed at him, digging on top of a giant, rolled up snow ball or just chasing me or the boys through the snow, he loved it.

(Romping in the snow)

Most of the time, Tristan got along well with other dogs. He so wanted to play with both Seth and Jasmine but his size intimated both of them. The best playmate he had was an Alaskan Malamute our neighbors had. They didn't have a fenced in yard and Max was kept on a long lead when left outside. Both dogs benefited when I would bring Max over to our house and let him romp with Tristan. Tristan was a little larger and most of the time dominated but on occasion we would see Tristan let Max get the upper hand as if he wanted him to be happy als0.

(Tristan wrestling with Max)

Though a great dog with other dogs and children, Tristan was a terror on wildlife. I never could understand why rabbits wanted to nest in our yard. I remember the first nest Tristan uncovered. I caught him joyfully tossing little bunnies in the air and catching them and when he was afraid I was going to stop him, Tristan gulped the baby rabbits down. This happened during more than one Spring. Rabbits weren't his only prey, Judy was walking him around the block one day and he made a sudden dart into a bush next to the sidewalk. He backed out of the bush, proudly displaying his kill. He wouldn't let the dead squirrel out of his mouth until he completed his walk for all to see. On another occasion, Judy came to me one evening concerned over something Tristan had in the backyard. I went out to investigate and found Tristan sprawled out on the ground guarding his dead prey. It was a possum. I pulled him away and scooped up the possum and set it in a box in the garage. I went back into the house and after a few minutes it dawned on me a trait of possums was to play dead. Sure enough when I went back out to check, the possum was gone.

In the spring of 2001, we noticed Tristan having a difficult time urinating. Judy took him into the vet and returned with the disheartening diagnosis. Tristan had Cancer of the spleen. Swelling was preventing his ability to pee and the vet didn't expect him to live but another month, two at the most. He started him on steroids to reduce the swelling and in the mean time, I would catheterize him twice a day. The process involved me laying underneath him and guiding the catheter through his penis and into his bladder, draining the urine into a pan. Amazingly, he cooperated every time and made the process simple. When the steroids took hold, he would begin urinating freely again and I would be able to stop the catheterizations. Unfortunately, the swelling would reoccur after some time and we would start over again. Tristan lived nearly 8 months after the cancer diagnosis. Better yet, his quality of life was preserved. We were blessed more than we could imagine.

Shortly after he was diagnosed, I was still feeling a great deal of emotional distress. A nurse on the night shift came to me knowing my situation and offered a young golden retriever pup, just a few months old, to me. He had found the young dog late one night on the intersate and had stopped to pick him up. He had tried to find an owner without success and was unable to keep the dog himself. He figured the pup would be a good way to help me through my struggle. At first I refused. I felt it would be like I was betraying Tristan. But when he brought the young Golden in to the hospital, I was overcome with emotion. He reminded me so much of Tristan when he was a pup. I changed my mind and brought the pup home. It was the best decision I could have made. Jason named the pup Noah, and he fit into the family immediately. He was also good for Tristan and Tristan was good for him. It was like Tristan took him under his wing and mentored the young pup. We had one of our best summers.

We went to Hummel Park many times to go swimming in the creek. We were taking a risk. The vet had warned us not to provide too strenuous exercise for Tristan. It could have caused his spleen to rupture and he would have bled to death internally. We decided if Tristan died swimming, he would have died doing the thing he enjoyed most. Instead of causing him distress, he thrived on it. What a joy it was swimming with Tristan and Noah and throwing sticks into the water for them to fetch.

(Tristan teaching Noah about swimming)

Judy and I celebrated our 25th anniversary that summer and went to the Smokey Mountains. we took the dogs and the boys and the event was so much better because they were part of it.

(Testing out a mountain stream)

We probably spoiled Tristan more than ever during those months. He got more than usual treats and rawhides, but we wanted, more than anything, to make Tristan's remaining time with us the best of times.

December 17th 2001 should have been a day of celebration for me as I turned 47 years old, but instead I had to have my good and faithful friend for over 12 and a half years put to sleep to prevent him suffering a stressful death that was quickly approaching. The tumor in his spleen was beginning to cause slow internal bleeding and the medications that helped keep him up and about were no longer as effective. If we didn't act he would soon have respiratory problems. Though he was comfortable at the time, he could begin having distress at any time and we owed it to him to let him go peacefully with the family at his side comforting him.

The pain I felt that day and the days after eventually faded but the memories of Tristan remain strong. I'm thankful for the many photos and videos though I still get choked up looking at them, and I know Tristan wouldn't want us to be in pain and would have us remember him joyfully.

(My big guy)