Taking a break...

Okay we are down to the insane last few days of trying to finish inventory prior to leaving for Dallas to vend at North Texas Irish Festival. This is our second largest event and the first one of the year and it's always like this. No matter how hard we try to stay ahead of things we wind up in a frantic crush the last few days. More often than not we are sitting in a hotel room in Dallas putting bracelets and other fabricated pieces together. This is a photo of our booth taken at Irish Fest probably five years ago. It still looks much like this but we expanded to a 10' X 20' space four years ago to accomodate all of the dogs and people who come to see us.

Irish Fest is where we get to see so many of our different customers and friends...we have a long standing group of Celtic oriented folks who stop in and our booth is always surrounded by greyhounds and Irish wolfhounds. And being Texas, the horse people are there too. Some years ago we started donating 5% of our total sales for the weekend to the two Dallas greyhound rescues - Greyhound Adoption League of Texas and Greyhounds Unlimited and we also always make a donation to the wolfhound rescue. Since everyone knows part of their purchase will go to rescue, they tend to save up their shopping for that weekend. It's a busy time for us in the booth and we truly look forward to seeing friends we only get to visit with once a year now that we no longer live in Texas.

So the purpose of this entry is to say in an effort to save what little is left of my sanity, I will not be making an entry again until after we are back from Irish Fest. Even now the buffer is calling my name...the dogs always travel with us in the extended cab portion of the truck but when Vannie saw their beds being loaded she had to make sure she wasn't being left behind.

Living in a yurt.

So many people have asked about this I decided to devote an entry explaining what a yurt is and why we chose one as our home. This is a photo of a traditional Mongolian gur, a design that hasn't changed much in many centuries. Like the mobile tent homes of the desert Bedouins, the gur or yurt was created by horsemen who needed to follow their herds or move quickly across the Russian Steppes. Unlike the Bedouin tents, the yurt is designed to withstand extreme cold as well as wind. I confess that being a horse addict since birth, there was a spiritual attraction to living in a home designed by traditional horsepeople who live their lives with and surrounded by horses. A Native American tepee might be romantic, but living in one has much less comfort than living in a yurt.

The modern yurt has been designed around the same engineering principles of the traditional one and is equally capable of withstanding high winds and heavy snow loads. The primary difference is ours is made of spaceage materials and is not intended to be moved. There is a great spiritual comfort in living in a round space and the aesthetics of the open and light interior is wonderful. Then there is the fact of a yurt being affordable housing that is not a box of metal. With a yurt, all materials can be recycled...wood, fabric and canvas. And it just sits softly on the land as if it grew here.

We chose our land knowing we would put a yurt on it. Building a solid house would be a greater investment than we could afford. The long range plan is to someday build an earth friendly home and turn the yurt into guest house and studio. Once we picked the building site the first task was to clear timbers for dirt excavation. The plan was to have a raised deck seven feet above ground to eventually frame in the under portion for a workshop. Unfortunately when it came time to level the space we discovered we were sitting on a sloping shelf of granite. We don't have the resources for that kind of excavation so Mike had to recalculate the deck plans to allow for a slope that left us with a seven foot height at the back and twelve feet at the front.

Mike spent that fall and winter digging holes for the deck support beams and refilling them with concrete and rebar. Once that was done, the actual concrete support columns could be built. The height of each one was determined by a laser level and Mike's good math skills. This was a difficult project that took much longer than anyone expected mostly due to trying to dig holes in granite and the logistics of just Mike doing almost all of the work.

The next step was to notch the vigas that would create the support system for the yurt deck. Notching timbers is an old skill and is the same process as making logs fit comfortably together for a log cabin. It was tedious but not difficult work and went fairly quickly. The vigas had to also be treated with a sealer to protect them from rot and boring insects. This was one job I was actually able to significantly help Mike with.

During the summer of 2003 we moved out of our leased house and into a tent to begin the construction of the deck. We had fantasies of getting the yurt up and moved into before winter as well. Probably our greatest difficulty here has been under estimating how long it will take us to do things...we are only two people with limited resources who also run a demanding home business. When winter came and we weren't even close to getting the yurt up, we moved into the tiny old 1950s trailer that came with the property and we now use as a workshop. It was a small cramped space for two people and two dogs, but it was warm and snug that first night the temperatures dropped down into the twenties.

Our dear friends Liz and Martin from Austin came out to visit and to help Mike start the deck construction. Lifting those big timbers up onto the concrete columns was not something I could help Mike with so we were grateful for Martin's able assistance. With the additional help of some scaffolding, Mike and Martin placed the vigas and secured them with the beginning of the framing. With that good start on the deck construction, Mike was able to continue the framing, place the deck flooring and build the circular platform the yurt would eventually anchor to. That portion of the construction took the balance of the fall and winter and it wasn't until the spring of 2004 that we began to actually raise the yurt.

The first step in putting up the yurt was installing the lattice work wall frames. This lattice is formed of sections of wood hinged together so it can be expanded and contracted. These panels are adjusted to fit around the raised base until there is a consistent height throughout and then they are attached to the base. There was a lot of small adjustments to be made in order to create a consistent seven foot wall height.

A cable is then run around the top of the walls and the rafters notch and bolt onto that cable. Scaffolding was set up in the center of the floor to hold the wooden ring where the top end of the rafters were bolted into place. This process took Mike and I working together with him at the top of the scaffolding setting the rafters into the ring and often both of us struggling at the bottom to pry the end of the rafters onto the cable. This basic skeleton of the yurt shows how the structure works with its parts to create a stable tension. In wind the frame will shift and flex but that flexibility is what allows it to withstand those pressures. Having lived in California earthquake country, a yurt would be an ideal structure there.

When it came time to put the outer roof skin on we were again thankful for the help of two friends, our neighbors Jacquee' and Joel. We laughingly say putting that roof up was like trying to push a dead elephant uphill. It was unbelievably heavy and awkward and just when you thought you were making headway it would start to slip down. Finally with the help of winching and ropes the roof was in place. And we all agreed, this yurt would never be moved!

The final step was putting up the inner and outer wall fabrics and installing the doors. This process was a bit time consuming only because it was like putting together a jigsaw puzzle to figure out which panels went where. There is a domed skylight on top of the center ring which can be raised to allow ventilation. The combination of skylight and white interior walls creates an open space filled with light. This yurt is thirty feet in diameter and the wall height is seven feet. We wanted as much interior space as possible and that wall height would allow us to build a sleeping loft to allow more usable floor space.

We finally moved into our yurt during the spring of 2004 and out of the old trailer. This made it possible for us to convert that space to dedicated workshop. There is still a great deal of work to be done to finish our home and in the meantime we just work around the inconveniences and construction. Last winter Mike began the interior construction that will be our sleeping loft above and bathroom below.

Designing a living space within a round form is an interesting challenge and one that will probably take us years to complete. Our floors are still only chip board because we have yet to decide on a covering best suited for the amount of dirt and sand tracked in by us and the animals. We love this space though and it has been very funny to watch our new Ellie turn it into a tiny racetrack as she zips around the central couch. The walls make an attractive backdrop and the lattice provides easy space for hanging photos and art. This yurt is a work in progress and while it is already a comfortable home, someday it will be a unique and attractive one as well.

Cuervo Point.

Friends have told us if we flattened out our original four acre parcel it would probably expand to twenty acres. The lower portion of this rectangular piece of land that runs diagonally across the mountain is a sloped sandy bottom with a thick stand of ponderosa pines. The orchard lies in a small cleared space and is home to young apple, plum, pear and cherry trees. Mostly because of the thick layer of sandy loam, the orchard has also become where we bury our lost animal companions. I have hopes of someday having a meditation garden there where we can sit and remember the animals who have passed through our lives.

The property quickly becomes steeper as it moves up towards an 8,300' heavily forested peak above us to the west. There is an arroyo that cuts across the south side that was formed by runoff coming down from the granite bluffs. A second arroyo formed by the same runoff system cuts through the new five acre parcel below us.

Above us is a rugged bluff known to local people for many years as Cougar Point. The story we have been told is this land was part of the range of a mountain lion who was often seen sunning at the top of this bluff. We were also told horses would not do well in this rugged place.

Walking the upper fenceline to check for tree falls and grounds in the electric fence used to be treacherous due to the extremely rugged terrain. I would have to place each foot carefully and hang onto the fence in areas to be sure if I slipped I would have a chance to save myself from a bad fall. Not long after we moved the horses home I walked the fenceline and was shocked to discover new trails everywhere and evidence Mike's mustang, Cuervo, had made the top of Cougar Point his own.

From the time we got him Cuervo preferred going to high ground where he could easily see long distances. Cuervo Humoso (Smokey Raven) came from an area in northwestern Colorado known as a mini Grand Canyon. I'm sure this desire for high ground was a survival instinct for Cuervo even though he no longer had need of that behavior. Prior to being captured, Cuervo received a deep puncture wound in his right side near the girth area that left a hollow scar big enough to put your fist in. It is astounding he not only survived such a severe injury, he thrived.

Soon Cuervo was leading the entire band up to explore the bluff everyone said horses couldn't climb. As Mike began training Cuervo he used the bluff as part of his training ground, teaching Cuervo to follow verbal cues and move only one foot at a time if asked.

From the very beginning the bond between Mike and Cuervo was profoundly moving. The man who had never had a horse before and the formerly wild mustang seemed to continually read each other's minds. I often found Mike out drinking his morning coffee while Cuervo ate his hay. Like Mikey only had eyes for me, Cuervo saw only his trusted leader and friend, Mike.

Our mornings always began with Cuervo's eager greetings and if we were late with the evening feeding he would soon be on the trail above the yurt looking through the windows to see what the hold up was. The horse who had survived a severe injury and found comfort in high places, unconditionally trusted whatever Mike asked of him.

For over a year Cuervo suffered from mild episodes of colic the cause of which remained undiagnosed. Each time we thought we had discovered the cause and found a remedy, the colic would return. On September 17, 2005 Cuervo went into a colic we could not resolve and he died from a ruptured intestine. We believe it was due to an internal abnormality. The loss for Mike is indescribable and our small herd went into deep mourning for their leader. For a week they spent time everyday standing or lying on Cuervo's grave at the bottom of the orchard. In his memory, we have renamed the bluff above us that he claimed as his own, Cuervo Point.

The Sky Herd
Run free my brothers in hooves.
Once you were earthbound
and now not even the sky can hold you.
Clouds are the mountains you graze on
and rain the pools you drink from.
Your strong legs are flashes of lightning
as you dance across the earth.
I will never touch your warm body again
nor feel the sweetness of your breath;
but my spirit will always ride with you
on your journey across the heavens.

© 9/18/2005 - Carmon Deyo

Wild nights.

So the night life leaves a little something to be desired up here on the mountain. Now it's true I have always been a morning person who fades fairly early and is irritatingly chatty with the dawn. It's pretty sad the only ones still awake during the late hours or even the medium hours around here are the horses. I remember in my twenties when I tended bar all night just so I could get back up at dawn to go out and ride my horses before it got too hot. Geez...now here it is 9:30 and all I can think about is how soon I can justify climbing into bed.

Of course these lively animals certainly add to the mood of immanent sleep. During my college days I worked a summer at a dude ranch with some friends. We were typical college kids, we worked all day, partied all night and then got up at dawn to do it again. Well, I still get up at dawn but that bed over there sure looks good about now.

I'm the light sleeper in the house too. When a dog needs to go out I'm usually the one that hears them and gets up to let them out and then waits for them to come back in. For some reason Mike hears the cats and I usually don't. Maybe I tune the cats out because I know they have other resources. Vannie seems to always find a lot of things to look at out there in the dark so I end up waiting a long time for her. No matter what time it is, I always hear the horses either running and playing or climbing the mountain above us. Sometimes when the moon is full I can see them...moon horses dancing in the dark.

So. How nice I no longer have anything to prove with my ability to stay up late and get up early. I can slip into bed before the news comes on and not feel the least bit guilty. I can get up in the middle of the night to let a dog out without feeling too much resentment. And I can take a few minutes to watch dream horses in the moonlight.

Griton.

Griton has been with us almost one year. We had just come home from North Texas Irish Festival last year when I spotted the ad for a five year old mustang gelding for sale. We called, we went, we brought him home.

On the way to see him south of Albuquerque we had been debating names should we bring him home. We knew from talking to his previous owner that she had saved him from being loaded on a slaughter truck headed for Texas in 2004 when she bought him. If we decided to buy him we felt he was being saved for a whole new destiny so thought of calling him Suerte dos Veces which means 'Twice Lucky'. We didn't know if he was a blue roan or a grey so we were also thinking of names including Azul which is Spanish for blue.

Well...as soon as we saw the big curly faced sweet guy we knew he was coming home with us and I think he did too. He hoped on the trailer, rode like a champ, and hiked up the mountain road with me like I was his long lost best friend. This mustang had been captured as a two year old and adopted immediately because he is a curly coated mustang. I imagine he was quite a cute little guy as a two year old. Sadly, those first adopters didn't treat him very well. Based on the large white pressure scars all over his back and body, he was ridden hard and young in a saddle that didn't fit.

By the time his second owner saved him, he was terrified of being saddled and mounted. I also imagine his fear of being ridden was why he was taken to the slaughter sale he was rescued from - his first time lucky. His second owner needed a horse for her young daughter and after a year of care and love was unable to work through his fears so offered him for sale again. That was where we came in - his second time lucky.

All of our colorful names just disappeared when we turned the big grey horse out with other mustangs. He was so excited to be back with horses who spoke his language he ran from horse to horse calling with great excitement and Mike said we should call him Griton which is a Spanish affectionate name for one who shouts a lot.

Griton was so homely compared to the other horses I've had I laughed (with affection) every time I looked at him. But as these things happen, I fell in love a little more each day with this big sweet horse who has such a desire to please. Now Griton is only beauty in my eyes. In spite of his early abuse, Griton wants so badly to trust and to please. It only took a few sessions with a positive reward approach before he was calmly and happily accepting a saddle.

Unfortunately Griton injured both of his stifles last June when he kicked out in play with one of the other horses and caught his back legs over a fence. All training was put on hold to give him time to recover. He got to spend the rest of the winter resting, playing and climbing the mountain with the other boys.

This sweet grey mustang comes from the Stewart Creek HMA in Wyoming where there are quite a few curly coated horses. Living here with us on the mountain he has gotten larger and stronger and now I think the homely horse we brought home has become quite a hunk. His handsome, rugged good looks are pale in comparison to the beauty of Griton's spirit. He seems to have fully recovered from his injury and I am so looking forward to climbing on his back this summer for the first time. I feel confident he is as eager to begin our adventures together as I am.

Holding memories.

I've never been overly sentimental about 'things'. That might be from my family moving so much when I was young. The cherished possessions of a child often didn't make it to the next house so we learned to say goodbye to them before we left.

Whenever we lose one of our animal companions we wash their collars and coats and donate them to a rescue. We like the idea of a dog who is waiting for its forever home to have a pretty collar and a warm coat to wear. Some of our dog's things have gone to Spain for the galgos, hunting greyhound who have little hope for homes and comfort.

Shortly after Star died a friend's house in Florida burned down and they escaped with only their animals and the clothes on their backs. We all agreed that was a lot since no lives were lost. I was proud to gather up Star's bridle, halter and other gear for their horses to use. It made me feel good to think of another horse wearing his things. When we adopted Valeroso we donated Star's winter blankets to the rescue.

When I gathered up Mikey's things and washed them I was happy to put his collars in the donation bag...he had so many, at least one new one every year and some holiday ones just for fun. I also didn't mind putting in the day coats and winter coats he wore when we went out during cold weather. But when I came to his little red circus jammies and his new blue jammies with four legs, I could not bear to let them go.

Mikey and I loved his jammies and he wore them more nights than not. Every night he would watch us as we began to get things ready for bed. As soon as I called him he would run over to let me dress him and then he would head to his bed, circle a few times and drop down with a big contented sigh. We liked those red jammies so much with their happy circus animals that he often wore them at events that turned a little cold. This last winter he wore his new blue leggy jammies every night and they kept him toasty warm so I didn't have to get up during the night to put a blanket over him.

So I have given myself permission to be sentimental this time. I am putting Mikey's red circus jammies and blue leggy jammies in my wooden trunk to keep. I don't think the dogs without homes will miss these two mementos of my Mikey. And besides, we might need to shock another raccoon one of these days with those little red jammies.

She looks so innocent...

...when she's sleeping. It's been such a long time since we've had a young dog. I'm guessing I feel a little like those people who suddenly find themselves raising their grandchildren. We're used to dogs who walk up to the couch and then spend five minutes deciding whether or not it's worth the effort to laboriously climb up one leg at a time. Not a dog who effortlessly springs over the back of the couch to land in a heap of legs and laughing face.

So let's see, so far we have had the kitchen raided and lost a cube of butter, a box of breakfast cereal and a bag of chips. Now everything vaguely edible is under lock and key. Thank goodness the property is double fenced - one acre fenced around the house for us and the dogs, then the outer property fenced for the horses. In spite of our careful attention, Miss Ellie managed to dart through the gate while we were carrying hay out for the horses. Boy did she run! Why is it when greyhounds have a full acre yard to run in, they don't; but give them access to a forbidden space and it's a whole different game! We knew she couldn't get away and the horses were busy eating their dinner so it was more frustrating than worrisome. Of course she made us walk most of the property while she explored staying just out of reach. Now we have the gates doubled along with the fencing.

Then there are the 2:00 AM potty expeditions that last forever and seem to be the perfect prelude to a romping game of kill the stuffed lion. We're not getting a lot of sleep but we're sure having fun.

Colors of winter.

As expected, our little snowfall didn't last much more than a day before it had disappeared into the ground. With no snow on the ground this winter, the tapestry of colors that makes up this area is even more vivid than usual. Sometimes I think I even prefer the winter colors with their subtle shades of gold and brown and the stark contrast of tree trunks and willow saplings against the intensely blue sky. Spring is very green but at this altitude most wild flowers don't appear until mid-summer.

As you drop down into Mora there is a meadow I never get tired of seeing. This time of year it is a magnificent patchwork of golds, rusts, browns and the deep green of pine trees. The mountains beyond are mostly granite and ponderosa pines providing a steady backdrop for the valley that is continually changing with the seasons.

For now, these leafless cottonwoods are a beautiful contrast of black and white against the sky. Cottonwoods are cautious and some of the last trees to begin to leaf in the spring. You begin to believe they all somehow died during the winter until the first haze of green begins to appear around them. Suddenly they seem to burst into the intense green of new leaves overnight and your eyes can't help but follow their vivid display along the rivers and creeks. Their mature summer leaves soon fade into a silvery shade that seems to flow and whisper in the summer winds.

Every overgrown fenceline becomes a study of color and line that steals your attention as you drive by. In summer you will only see an overgrowth of green that the highway department will soon cut back. For now you are blessed with garnet to pale gold, rust to deep brown.

Even the hated cockle burr takes on a new golden beauty all its own. You somehow manage to forget your pricked fingers as you struggled to remove them from horses' manes and tails that were turned into clubs from being dragged through them.

In a normal winter, this beauty would have been buried in snow long ago. We miss and need the snow, but in its absence, we will feel blessed by this beauty around us.

Snow!!!

We are finally getting a little bit of snow! We probably won't get more than five or six inches at this altitude but whatever we get will be more than welcome. It was very warm and sunny yesterday and I didn't even need a sweatshirt. Today it has gotten progressively colder and about an hour ago the snow started. This is typical spring snow, wet and fluffy with flakes joining together to create soft falling clumps. I went out to take photos since it is certainly an event this winter. And it is cold...cold enough to make your ears tingle and your fingers hurt almost immediately. We don't keep a thermometer, why torture ourselves with knowing exactly how cold we are?

The horses are enjoying the new snowfall. They have been galloping around, bucking and snorting. Griton went down to the sandy area they like to roll in which now has a nice layer of snow over it. He pawed and turned until he found just the right spot and then went down for a big roll. He got up covered with wet sand and snow and gave a big buck and took off through the trees. Obviously it was a lot of fun because he came right back and did it again. Corazon and Valeroso were much more interested in eating and both were irritated at Griton's persistent efforts to get them to play. Just before the snow started a light single person plane flew over just above the tree tops. All three mustangs took off up the mountainside in a panic. These horses were rounded up with helicopters and small planes and I don't know if they will ever lose the fear created by that experience.

For once the cats are showing no desire to go outside and this is how our new girl has decided to enjoy the snow..."I am NOT a snow dog! I am NOT a snow dog! I am perfectly fine right here on this lovely couch!" Have I said I am completely smitten with this sweet dog? I didn't even change my mind when she raided the kitchen while we went to the post office today. Somewhere in that tiny waist of hers she packed away an entire cube of butter, most of a box of cereal and a bag of potato chips.

Cactus Ellen has arrived!

What a sweet, sweet girl. Providence has taken care of us again with this darling and beautiful girl. Just check out this face! Ellen, Ellie, Elly-belly, Elli-vanellie you came here to bring joy back into our hearts. I met Judy Paulson of Greyhound Companions of New Mexico at a halfway point between her home and ours and Vannie and I welcomed Ellie into her new family. Ellie hopped into the extended cab of the truck with Vannie, settled in and happily rode home with us.

This girl was still racing just last October. I had forgotten what a slim, fit and young greyhound looked like! Ellie is tall, long legged and large for a female greyhound. She is easily as tall as Birdy was and if she were a human she would be a super model. This isn't the best of photos but I'm sure I'll have a chance to get more later. Check out that tiny waist on those long legs!

Ellie has already met the cats and Fionna backed her down immediately with one of her evil stares. Nicodemus is hanging out up on the sleeping loft hiding from this new intruder. Ellie has been nothing but respectful so I'm sure the cats will accept her quickly. Vannie has welcomed Ellie in her usual 'don't worry, be happy' way and the two ate dinner together as if they had been doing so for years.

Mike has gone to Midland, Texas until Friday so Vannie and Ellie both went out to help me feed the horses and do the chores. All of that exploring and newness wore the girl out and she came in and plopped on the floor next to my computer while I caught up on emails. Just a few minutes ago she decided to get up and try out the couch. I've been around nothing but old dogs for so long my jaw dropped as I watched her get on the couch by jumping over the back of it!

Judy said she feels the best tribute we could give Mikey is to welcome another greyhound into our home. That is how we feel too...Mikey filled our lives so full of love it is only right to pass that love onto another one who needs it.

Vannie

It only seems fair that Vannie should get her tribute too since once again she is saving us from sadness. When we lost Birdy two years ago Mikey went into severe depression. As he lost more of his vision to cataracts, he depended on Birdy to be his eyes as well as his dog brother. We knew we needed another greyhound right away and with Mikey's competitive nature we didn't want another male to challenge him. We also didn't want a young dog who might accidentally hurt our geriatric boy. When I put in a call asking for a senior girl, serendipity stepped in that same day with Vannie. She was nine years old and had been in the same home for seven years. Changing circumstances required they give her up and she was responsibly taken to a greyhound rescue. We adopted Vannie sight unseen and didn't even know what color she was. Imagine our surprise to discover she could have been Mikey's twin right down to the upright ears.

Mikey took to Vannie immediately and she made sure we all got over our sadness with her persistent joy in life. We expected her to go through an adjustment period after leaving a home she had been in for so long, but Vannie never looked back and we think she isn't capable of being anything but happy. This morning before the sun was hardly up Vannie was tossing a stuffed frog into the air and catching it along with leaping up and spinning to try and catch her tail...and this girl will soon be eleven years old!

Vannie is anything but a 'girlie' dog. She is rough and tumble and loves living up here. She goes out every morning to patrol and look for squirrels. If she spots one she gets very stiff legged and bounces and 'huffs' at it. She will often spend such a long time staring up a tree we worry she'll have a stiff neck and headache.

Well serendipity is stepping in once again for us. I put in a call to Greyhound Companions of New Mexico saying only that we needed another cat friendly social butterfly greyhound to come and share our lives. I just heard that a four year old girl had been returned today and needed a home just like ours. I will be picking up Cactus Ellen on Wednesday and Vannie will have a new little sister.

My happy morning dog is gone.

Less than a month ago I wrote about Mikey's twelfth birthday and now he is gone. He was the last of the first three greyhounds I adopted in 1999. With epilepsy and the other health issues Mikey had I never expected him to live the longest. When we passed that twelve year mark I hoped for at least one more. Cody on the right was adopted at twelve and was with us until he was fourteen. Birdy on the left wasn't even two years old when he came home and was just eight when he died. Mikey in the middle was five and right off the track...he stayed with me the longest.

Among the greyhound adoption world, Mikey is probably most famous for having shoplifted a toy from another vendor's booth at the Greyhound Pets of America conference in Las Vegas, NV. The vendors were taking a break during a conference meeting so Mikey and I decided to walk around and shop a bit. Mikey spotted a stuffed squeaky toy, carefully took it off the display without disturbing anything else, and headed back to our booth at full speed with his prize. Of course I bought it for him and that stuffed toy was his favorite for many years. Mikey loved his squeaky babies and always took special care of them.

No matter what we asked Mikey to adapt to, he did it with great enthusiasm. He went to art shows and greyhound adoption events. He lived in the truck, stayed in motels and spent the summer with us in a tent. All Mikey cared about was me, food and toys in that order. Recently he had decided Mike was a pretty good substitute when I wasn't around. This morning when I cooked breakfast my feet were automatically watching to not step on my kitchen helper who is no longer there. On our way back from the first trip Mike and the dogs and I made to the east coast, we stopped for ice cream and shared a cup with the dogs to all of their great delight.

Mikey wasn't a pretty dog like Birdy, or dignified like Cody. He didn't have Vannie's boundless joy in life. Mikey was all compact and competitive muscle. He wasn't much fun to play with for the other dogs because he took it all too seriously. Everything Mikey did, he did with total focus whether it was playing, eating or sleeping creatively. When he bonded to me it was with that same single minded focus. I know I am only just beginning to feel his loss and I will be reaching my hand down to rub his head as I walk for a long time to come.

What will I do without my happy morning dog? How will I walk without his head pressed against my knee? I was counting on him to make sure I got up every morning while Mike is gone starting with the pre-dawn thump of his tail, and then an impatient bark if I don't get on with things and fix his breakfast. I just don't know what I will do without you Mikey, the one who only had eyes for me.

We will bury Mikey today down in the orchard next to his friend Birdy. When Mikey had his first seizure, it was Birdy who stood guard over him protecting him from another dog who wanted to attack Mikey while he was helpless. And it was Birdy who took charge while Mikey was ataxic from seizures and medication - he would take Mikey outside to potty, wait for him and then bring him back to his bed allowing Mikey to lean against his shoulder for balance. It is fitting those two should be next to each other in the orchard as they so often slept next to each other in life.

The view from the deck...

We had planned for the deck the yurt sits on to be seven feet above ground so we could eventually enclose the space underneath to be a dedicated workshop. This mountain had other ideas though and once we started moving dirt we discovered we were sitting on a shelf of solid granite. As a result, the deck is on a slope that puts the front about twelve feet above ground and the back at seven feet. It made constructing the deck much harder for Mike but in the end it is a wonderful change. The front corner of the deck where we sit and drink coffee in the mornings and where the rose and herb garden is extends out into the trees and over the arroyo. Our plan is to some day extend that front corner out over the arroyo and add a hot tub. Of course the need for hauling in water to fill a hot tub may alter that plan!

That front corner gets the first of the morning sun and it's stunning to watch the sun through the pine trees coming up over the valley. The early morning sun is wonderful for the herbs and our rose Memory Garden. Five years ago when we lost our old greyhound Cody, friends brought us a white tea rose to remember him by. That rose has bloomed almost non-stop ever since and rode in the cab of the truck with me on the move from Texas. We have often fondly wished that old dog smelled as good as this rose does. We have continued the tradition with our other lost animals and have a rose to remember each one. Star's rose is a beautiful deep red and is the first to bloom and has the largest blossoms.

The deck is also home to one of Mike's sculptures, Ascending Embrace. I took this photo after a rain storm with the dust washed away and surrounded by rosemary, chives and roses. Also on the deck are pots of lavender, marjoram, oregano and sage. When summer is well established there are also tubs of fresh salad greens and our first year here, tomatoes and green peppers. I hope this summer we can manage time for vegetables again. I love stepping outside and picking a fresh salad.

From the deck we can look down into one of the arroyos. It only has water running through it when we have runoff coming down from the mountain but there are almost always ferns growing there. Looking straight ahead we see the valley and mountains beyond through the trees that surround us. Just below us is the horse's water trough and every morning we get to come out on the deck to watch their morning play as they come in to get water. The first thing we hear is the sound of their hooves as they gallop around the orchard, kicking and bucking to sliding stops. They rear and spar and eventually wear themselves out enough to come in one at a time to drink their fill.