Herman had three well-fed years, which is far better than most.

>>checked with my brother and he said closer to about 5.5 years.<<

Ricky Raccoon was a card. Lots of fun, when you try to watch TV, while he chews on your toes. He would sit on the kitchen counter whenever the dishes were being done. We'd just hand him a spoon and he would scrub it forever, happily chattering away at whomever the evening's dishwasher might be.

Birds, snakes, lizards, salamanders, rabbits, mice, cats, dogs, horses, goats... You name it, all creatures, great and small.

It was an interesting childhood, one I wouldn't trade for the world. ...Well -- maybe for the world...

My older brother and I would go out fishing along the creek, and end up bringing home birds, generally chicks who had fallen from nests, including crow, sparrow and wood thrush. Our father kept a cardinal for a few weeks. It had been stunned flying into the living room picture window. My sister would occasionally drag in some baby raccoon that she found whimpering in the snow, including Rocky, Ricky and Rocky II. Upon reaching adulthood, they would be released. Sometimes they came back, to sort of say hello and get a few saltines, mixed with a can of diced tomatoes, and showing off their family. They'd had their visit, then waddle off into the woods, never to be seen again.

Our aunt, who is a year older than me, was unable to keep her pony, so Honey Bun ended up with us. A beautiful palomino, he even won first place for Pony in the Reynoldsburg Tomato Festival parade. Sure, he was the only pony, but it's still a ribbon. One weekend we even opened a zoo, with the proceeds going to The Heart Fund.

Learning to canoe, exploring Appalachia, fishing in the Atlantic, watching Apollo 11 soar into the cloud-pocked blue sky, with the earth trembling under my feet.

Such fun. Every day an adventure.

One day, I would like to walk the Appalachian Trail, but, even more, to get back to the jungles of Panama.

Cheers, all.