Missing Bo
In 1992, as my family was preparing for our Air Force directed move from Arkansas to Colorado Springs, my two sons decided that it was a perfect time for us to adopt a dog. It had been several years since we had owned one, and they thought that nothing would be better than to add to the family just before driving across the country. “He can keep us safe on the trip!” was one of their favorite attempts at a justification. Since I really didn’t want to deal with a new dog on the trip, I promised the boys that as soon as we were settled in Colorado we could go to the local shelter and see what they had. This seemed to satisfy them, since they then spent the entire 3-day trip talking about what kind of dog they wanted,and what they wanted to name it. It worked so well that there was no complaining or whining “Are we there yet?” the whole trip. Once we arrived, we quickly purchased a house and got settled in to our new life in the mountains. Life was so interesting at that point that I