Here is Thanksgiving at my house in the 1990s. Mr. Troutbend's Daddy is in front of the window on the right, my dad is on the left. Mr. Troutbend is nearest the camera on the right, and his sister is on the left.



This is a very young Mr. Troutbend, his mother, and his grandad, probably 1952.



Hopefully I will be in Las Vegas for Thanksgiving this year.

Buddy update from our reporter on location:
"Buddy gets his 4th dose in a little while. He's definitely improving, not as much swelling and he's acting fairly normal; getting up on the counter for example. I'm really going to try to get him eating more today."

That getting up on the counter consists of Buddy jumping up onto the breakfast bar, so he can hang with us at face level. It is more about being social than begging for food. We used to have a cardboard box he used for a boost up, and it made a noise when he jumped on it, so I'd be cooking, hear a noise and sproing! there was Buddy's little furry face looking at me from the bar stool. Then, we bought a footstool for him so it would look classier, but it doesn't make any noise and he just appears without warning. Yes, he's spoiled.

This is his new booster stool.


It snowed through the night, but only about 4 inches. Bright and sunny this morning, so the roads will be clear soon. This fine, dry snow will get beaten off by traffic before it can melt and freeze.

There are a lot of animal tracks in the yard - looks like a coyote came across the bridge, checked the place where we throw food scraps, started for the back door but turned away, walked around the front of the house, stopped in sight of the front door, turned and retraced its tracks back over the bridge. He probably checks us out every night just in case there might be something to eat.