My dear friend Harry took a turn for the worse.  After multiple fire rescue life line calls, several trips to the hospital for horrific falls, and exasperated dealings with government bureaucracies, Harry's family finally threw up their hands our shipped Korean War hero off to Avow Hospice.  For the uneducated, 'Hospices' are like roach motels.  You get the drift.

All Harry wants to do is to die of natural causes in his own home with his dog Sonny Boy.  Harry's mom called Harry "Sonny Boy" so Harry naturally named his best friend Sonny Boy.

Yesterday Sonny Boy spent the day with me.  Sonny marched down 5^th Avenue alongside wailing sirens of the Collier County Sheriff's Department, EMS, and Collier County Fire Department.  Funny thing about this rescue dog; this one runs to sirens when most dogs cover their ears. 

Another funny thing about Sonny Boy: wherever he marched the little one's wanted to pet him.  I warned all parents along the parade route that I viciously trained Sonny Boy but...to no avail.  All the children were drawn to Sonny Boy anyway.

Harry will love to hear that Sonny proudly walked alongside roaring Harleys, Naples's finest, and did not steal one bit of candy from any kid today.  He is a good boy after all.

Today, Sonny and I will spring Harry from Hospice despite all rules and regulations.

In fact, we will spring Harry because of all the rules and regulations.  Harry may not be able to sign a check, clean himself, or feed his best friend, but he has a hundred million angels marking his days and not some faceless bureaucrat dressed in white.

And we will all be damned if we allow for any of it.