Two of my dad's friends died this week. It's Tuesday.
I guess when you enter septegenarism you start getting used to outliving your friends.

When I called my dad to see how he was doing, he sounded like he was doing great.
Turns out he hit his fifth(!) hole in one today.

They gave him a $200 bar tab to buy everybody drinks and he ended up owing 30 bucks.

I asked where he hit it and it said it was the 14th hole - the one right by the house where Buddy, the really nice golden retriever all the neighborhood kids would play with lived.

Then he told me Buddy died a couple years ago.
In a housefire. on Christmas.