The guy with the strut

KC wasn't always the easiest guy to get along with. He was a bit of a loner who liked company. You could pop into his place, and he'd help make sure you were comfortable. Then he'd maybe hang out for a few token minutes, strut away, and disappear for a while.

You could try to engage him, sure -- but with his semi-loner personality, you weren't always going to win. He had his own way of doing things, and there wasn't much that was going to stop him from doing his own thing.

One of the few who could try to force their ways upon him was Aunt Becky, who lived with him for years. Even still, if she took off on a business trip and then returned, he'd still spend days blowing her off. Dependent? Oh, absolutely. But KC was a tough guy who wanted to be independent. Occasionally -- not always, but occasionally -- he'd open up and you'd see the big heart that lurked within that gruff exterior.

KC was like that. Given enough patience, you could generally count on him to share his love, but sometimes it'd cost you. The first time dad went to hang out with him in his house, he swung by a few times, hung out for brief moments, then just strutted away.

There was love there, and distance, and more love. When KC went to add the distance, he always left under his own terms. And he always strutted away.

He passed away yesterday. There is no word on whether he strutted to meet that great big salmon in the sky.