Grieving and Lunch with Senator Lynch

Hello again,

This week has been a bit of a nightmare for me, so I apologize in advance for the nature of this post. Our family recently has had to deal with a squirrel carcass problem in our back yard, and as if that was not enough we also had our pet cat Boots pass away quite violently. We found her body in the front yard earlier today, amongst the carcasses of several squirrels that had been disemboweled in a similar way. We suspect someone's dog got out, or a rabid stray got to them, meaning I'll have to get fencing put up so animals can't get in the backyard. My God, what if it had been one of our kids...? Please keep our family in your prayers as we suffer through this difficult time, and for God's sake, if you live in the DC area keep an eye out for any stray dogs in the neighborhood.

I managed to take time from my schedule to catch up with my good friend Ozzie over at the Capitol Grille, a favorite restaurant of mine in downtown DC. Ozzie's been kind enough to try and help me through these difficult times, bless his heart, but I'm honestly a bit worried for him lately. He seems tired all of the time, and jumpy. I think the controversy over the Drone Strike proposal, combined with what I went through recently, has made him twitchy.

It was about a third of the way into our little luncheon that I asked him what the matter was.

"Not much, old sport, just been unable to sleep well lately," he said, pouring his third glass of Pinot Grigio. "Some blasted neighbor of mine lets his dog out at night and it keeps barking and baying all night at something or other; I see it jumping out of my yard over the fence sometimes, that's how it gets in. Sets my teeth on edge you know, I can't stand dogs..."

"Oh really?" I asked. "I didn't think any of your neighbors had a dog."

"Well they sure as hell do now! The damn thing howls and runs around my back yard all night, and in the morning drags a bunch of old dead rats and racoons into the yard, tears 'em up and leaves them. Nearly scared our poor maid half to death this morning!"

I paused in disbelief, and stared at him.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, confused. "I... didn't catch that. Did you say they were torn up and left in your yard?"

"Why yes," Ozzie responded, brow crinkling in confusion as he looked up at me from his food. He saw the look on my face, and I watched the gears in his head turn as his confusion transformed to realization.

"Richie..." he asked, his voice lowered conspiratorially. "Richie, have you been dealing with dead animals in your yard too?"

"Yes," I answered grimly. "Yes, and nightmares at night."

"Nightmares?" Ozzie loosened his tie gently, swallowing hard. "Care to tell me what they're about, the nightmares?"

"This enormous... enormous wolf, black, covered in eyes. Human-like eyes... and some sort of angel or something. Tall, thin... any of that sound familiar to you?"

Ozzie paled.

"... What's wrong, Ozzie? Oswald?"

"N-nothing," he replied. "Not familiar at all... you know, I think it might be best if I took a vacation soon... sometime this April, perhaps?"

"A vacation this soon?" I said incredulously. "I'm hurt. I'd thought you were going to come to that charity ball next month..."

"Oh, I will, I should be able to, anyway," he said, backpedaling. "I plan to. I just think perhaps all the controversy around what happened on your blog, and the media circus around that drone strike bill..."

He trailed off, shaking his head and sipping deeply of his wine.

"I just think I might need a little break, that's all. I've been under the weather and I think it might do me some good to get a little R and R."

"Well you take it, then," I said compassionately. "You're getting too old to be running around like some sort of young upstart. You ought to think of your heart more..."

"I know, old buddy, I know..."

The rest of the luncheon was uneventful. We spoke of classic literature, he comforted me on the lost pet, and all was well. Still, I'm worried about him - his father passed away of a heart attack some time ago, and I'm concerned the same might happen to Ozzie if he taxes himself too much. The last thing I want is to have to attend the funeral of my best friend just after losing a family member.

- Richard S. Pinne