As a young boy, I grew up hunting these furry tree dwellers in the hills with my father. Some of my best memories of him come from us sitting on a fallen log, breathing in the fresh air while searching the tree tops for activity. It was in this sacred place that he told me about girls, how to be a man, smoking was bad for you (even though he offered me one anyway), told me about life and passed on some of his favorite stories of his father and his youth. I cherished those times then, and even more now that he’s not around.
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