Just a Little Late, Lord

"Just a little late Lord..."

What a beautiful day to ride. Colder'n a "Mother," and as clear as "Taps" played on a field of honor.

BearDog would have approved...

I cut out of some real important training...designed to make me a better teacher... I kept tellin' 'um I wasn't a real teacher (Federal Witness Protection Program ya' know...) and therefore "didn't need no stinkin' training," but they insisted.

I rode up to the funeral home and saw more Dogs than had showed up for the last "Michael Vick Invitational!" Dogs I hadn't seen since I was a "DevilPup..."

Beardog musta' been pleased...

We paid our respects to a Brother...stood around and smoked (not me) and joked for a while. I "stepped off tha' wagon"...three times, and toasted Beardog's passing...thanks to Rooth's ever-on-hand (tho way too small) flask. After the first "taste," Rooth made me tell him I loved him before he'd cough up the flask...

Dogs from Bravo rolled up...in a "cage...!!!!" You know, they're old and somewhat feeble...

"O shit! That's most of us now...

BA, sooooo good to see you again Brother!

We loaded Beardog and it was time to head out...except the the "Harley-Hearse" wouldn't start...

Someone produced a set of jumper cables and "tried to start somthin'." The Harley-Hearse finally turned over, but I didn't have the heart to tell'm that it wouldn't work...for long.

Beardog waited patiently...

Off we went, and "O what a grand sight it must have been"... two Companies of Devildogs all in a staggered double row...takin' a Brother home.

We rolled around the 820 Loop and then east on I-20 toward the National Cemetery.

Not much later I looked back and we'd lost the "guest of honor." Doug rolled up to the now "median-parked" lead element to report that the Harley-Hearse had broken down...again. Guess I should'a said something...

Could'a sworn I heard Janis Joplin singin' "busted flat in Baton Rouge...," but it could'a been my ears ringin' from the wind.

...Janis Joplin...DevilPups...Drug-laced rock 'n roller from the '60's..."O Lord won't ya' buy me a Mercedes Benz..." Oh never mind...

The 5 of us performed a daring maneuver..."swimming upstream" against traffic, then executing an "into speeding traffic" U-turn to rejoin the "lost platoon."

We pretty much stopped east-bound traffic as we transferred Beardog from the Harley-Hearse to the back of a Suburban, but we were soon "on the road again..."

A Romo hand-off never went so smoothly...

Somehow, we lost Cybil...

Beardog hadto'abeen chucklin' by now...

We rolled into the National Cemetery and thousands of headstones stood at attention as Beardog passed...

Taps played over Beardog...and I got something in my eye...

A young Marine presented the flag to Beardog's family and the gathering began to disburse.

I think Kenny Rogers showed up...but he didn't sing...

We had one final treat before we headed out. The sight of "Kitchen..." ridin' "bitch" headin' into the sunset. Dog! We're a Motorsicle Club...

Beardog hadtoa'been laughin' his ass off!

Seriously Brother, rest well...you're already on the "duty roster." Keep the place safe till the rest of us transition. ...well most of us anyway... Some of us prefer "warmer climes."

Andy

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Last modified: December 10, 2009