Five years before I was born, my dad was fishing at a local lake and was bitten by a fox.
I remember him telling this story to us but never imagined it would have made it as an anecdotal clip in a newspaper halfway across the county. It was the second time he had to take those series of shots. He was only about 35 years old then - much younger than I am now.
He was a bright artistic man, who often repeated stories. I do the same and my kids KNOW I do this but usually I have no idea about it. I suppose it's just bad neural circuitry.
Whatever the reason, I'm happy that I can repeatedly miss him.