A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing?

In the blog, and through his life, we made a lot of animal analogies about Alan. Alan the cat. Alan the fish. The first of all of these was Alan the sheep. He was born in the year of the ram, just like Dad. Mom and I were born in the year of the dog, so we saw each other as sheepdogs, each with our sheep to keep in line.

Personality-wise, Alan did have a kind of sheepish center, but kept it well-hidden most of the time. When he was in a bad mood, and you tried to force something on him, he would lash out and push back. He didn't bleat -- he snarled and howled.

Maybe that's why he played this track for me one day on the way to IHOP. Or maybe not.

Alan liked The Heavy. He liked a lot of music that brought jazz and soul influences into rock. He seemed a bit disappointed that the band had gotten so much play on commercials and TV shows. I guess that was the hipster in him.

Moving forward without Alan,  our whole family is figuring out our new roles. I feel like a sheepdog without a sheep. I know I have other purpose in my life other than him, but it's hard to feel it now. Time, I'm sure, will sort that out, but right now, it's one of the most acute reminders of our loss. It makes me want to howl out.