It is Spring of 1996, Towanda, IL, just off old Route 66. I would drive my daughter Jessica to school every morning with our Big Dog, Schon. Schon was a 120-pound German Shepherd that was an incredible animal. He was smart, loyal and devoted to his family. Driving South from Lexington we would always stop in Towanda at a small lake and Jessica and Schon would run laps around the lake. He, running flat out, in the sparkling 6:40am sunshine seeming to glide over the ground and Jessica, her long hair flowing like a mane behind her. She was all arms and legs pumping and trying to keep up with him. She was wearing white shorts, a black t-shirt and high top shoes. I can see her flailing her arms, just enjoying being alive. I would sit on the hood of the 1972 SAAB 99e that we affectionately called the “Green Weenie”. One of my all-time favorite cars that I’ve owned. When it was me to go, I’d whistle for Schon and he would beeline it for me. “Load up!” I’d tell him with the back door opened up. Jessica would come panting in, plopping into the passenger seat. “Buckle up” I’d tell her and fire up the SAAB, dropping it into gear and we would continue on our day.