February 1 is a bit of an anniversary for me.  On this date in 1989, I slipped on some ice in my driveway in Longmont, Colorado, and broke my ankle in three places.  Later that day I underwent surgery to screw it back together, and the screws are still there.  Coincidentally, somewhere in Oklahoma a litter of puppies was born, one of whom was Sam.  (We’re not exactly sure of the date, but it the vet who took care of him said it was as close as she could get.)  Both events on that day changed my life.