Apr 13, 2022


 Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

-Naomi Shihab Nye


heron web.jpeg

Travels and Thoughts!

 We have been traveling slowly throughout the western passage from North to South... stopping along the way to breathe and meet souls of the Earth. That is our favorite thing in life. Looking for the evasive (at times elusive)  connection to others. When you are quiet and breathing it just seems to appear. 

Our travels guided us through Kanab Utah and downward through Tucson and as always landed us in Tubac Arizona. Tubac has been a quiet refuge for us for 10 years. Many souls turned into deep friendships that will remain with us forever. Surprisingly, we have all aged... how did this happen? I'm not feeling much older and when I gaze upon my friend's faces they are eternally young. Several are turning 80 this year... amazing in my mind! The high desert treats them well. 
This year we decided to land in Pecos New Mexico for 10 days (outside of Santa Fe) and we were treated to an incredible experience. New Mexico walks in the wake of spiritual happenings. It is the land (of enchantment) of indigineous ways, of battles fought, of ancient lands. You can feel it all around you. We stayed in an incredible spot in the Sangre De Cristo mountains. Our hostess has developed a zen path with sculptural delights of buddhas, ancient indigenous sculptures, hindu sculptures and most impressive wind harps (outdoor sound sculptures). I had never experienced such delight to my ears and senses. The wind harp delivers. This site has some information: https://harmonywindharps.com 
Finally we met some incredible souls. One in particular was a gentle german shepard who guarded and guided us through our stay in New Mexico. Another sacred visitor was the blue heron who landed in the tree top beside us to sun his wings. Today as we explored a church at Apache Corner which was built in 1880 (Nuestra Senora de Luz Church) we met a sprite of a lady all of 4'10" who walked up to ask if I had a garbage bag or two. She was decked out in many coats, hats and scarves with large sunglasses upon her beautiful face. Her smile was contagious. And she grabbed my face in her hands and kissed me. I had been kissed by an angel. She had come from the Phillipines years before, had survived brain cancer in 2009 and now had difficulties in balance and vision. She held Traces and my hands as she talked. Everyday she walked to the church to pick up litter and to pray. We joined her and were set off with a kiss and a wave. Life is incredible on this planet. 

Oct 25, 2021

Enya Says

 Greetings fellow canines and human friends. Just to set your hearts and noggins to rest, I’ve

been vaccinated in case you want to visit. I chose the vaccine with the cognitive enhancer

which, as I’ve read will result in at least a 6 point increase in my full scale bow wow score. To

date, I’m still waiting for its impact upon my thinking. Don’t get me wrong, I can still perform

my usual tasks. I remember the location of the food bowl, I know where the doors are located

for my daily exits, but my reading seems to have slipped a bit. Multi syllable words are causing

my fur to dander. Occasionally I holler at Clark for some help in this arena but he seems to

experiencing some of the same difficulty. I hope the enhancer kicks in for both of us quickly as

I have a few meetings later this summer which require my full capacity and he has stuff to do.

My doggie friends. I certainly hope you have received the vaccine. I could say “hope and pray”

but we Bosties don’t pray, we trust. We trust that when we get vaccinated for things I do not

entirely understand the shot will prevent worms from taking over my system. I trust I will not fall

prey to measles or dog polio. As some of you may know we doggies have had the vaccines for

decades. You may not know this, but these health bumps are more than maladies to Bosties.

We succumb. I do not wish to cash in my precious chips, thus when Annie says,”load er up,” I

know there’s a hypodermic with my name on it. I’m ok with that.

Dang, I deplore talking about health issues, it’s not my nature but here goes: My hearing seems

to be seeping away. I know this because I cannot hear, yet I have these other sensory powers.

Here’s how it unfolds. I’m sleeping on the couch…blissfully. Before I can see him nor obviously

hear him coming, Clark sneaks up on me and gives me the “hey buddy, let’s play.” This

expression is always associated with some demonic wrangling of my ears, which we Bosties

deplore…it’s for Labradoodles. I give him a long yawn hoping he’ll go away. If anything, Clark is

persistent. It continues in this fashion until I finally bite him. He removes himself and seeks

solace from Annie. That girl saves his tush in so many ways.

Be assured mates, we are pushing through here in the Lincoln Metroplex. It’s been smokey and

some of my friends seem to be snared up about social issues. The one thing I notice as Annie

and I do a creek walk is: hey, where’s the water? This is disturbing for me and my friends. I’m a

little embarrassed as my reading is not so contemporary on this global warming business.

Furthermore, I don’t know what’s going on downstream. Nonetheless, my friends and I have

agreed to be careful with the water. We have formed an alliance not to pee in the water as we

all require it. If it seems I’m waxing philosophical here, well that’s who we Bosties are. Thankful

 for every day but not so adept at enduring other dogpoo when it’s on my trail.

Adios, my companaros.

keep crunching and good sniffing.

Sep 12, 2021

Good Vibrations

 Sending out a boat load of good vibrations tonight. Kindness and gratitudes to all who we meet. The eyes tell it all. 

Mar 24, 2021

Enya Says, March 2021

 Enya Says

Hello fellow canines and the humans we own. Well, once again I find myself in Tubac, AZ. We

seem to be acculturized to this place. Kinda like homogenized only different. It’s a sweet little

spot here and the weather seems to fit our clothes. (Skipping over the ocean like a stone)

Thank you Donovan. To date I have spotted no lizards. I know they’re out there as I can smell

them. For Bosties this scent is not fragrant. It’s nothing like huffing a poodle or even a

schnowzer. From my observations of previous trips I’ve noted the crafty roadrunner is undetected.

I’m ok with this as he makes me nervous. He’s just too dang fast for me to get out of

the way and that beak is terrifying. I’m sure he’ll arrive before long as he knows I’m sleeping

here. He haunts my dreams.

I took a road trip with Annie and Clark to Nogales last week. I thought we were going to see the

futile Donald wall and Annie would do some casual graffiti but this was not the case. It was not

a joyous outing for me as they took me to a Vet and caught me off-guard as Annie and Clark

disguised their intent. It appears I have bulging eye syndrome. Not a fatal condition just a pain

in the eye. As a result of this surprise I have the displeasure of eye ointment daily. What we

pooches don’t tolerate for our people. Anyway, I guess this is the stuff that happens as we

push along our life’s trail. On a positive note the vet was good enough and a graduate of

Northern Nogales School of Vetinary something. A plaque on his wall said he had a solid GPA.

The other patients didn’t smell that bad so I tolerated the ordeal, except for that rectal thermometer.

Annie is a good swimmer. We have a pool and I’m told it’s heated. Insignificant to me as I am a

sinker and dare not enter the thing called water. I have entertained the thought but I am a prudent

Bostie as we, like some humans are top heavy. Clark has developed a scoring card for

Annie’s water entries. From what I understand it’s built around 2 scales: 1. Degree of difficulty

and 2. Technical merit. She appears to earn low scores for degree of difficulty but earns mediocre

marks for technical merit. Interpret this for yourself. She makes me so proud. I’ve heard

from Annie that Clark is doing well. Truth be known, I saw him get on his bike and although the

climbing aboard the device looked snaky to me he tottered off and returned home shortly

thereafter. I was surprised and pleased upon his return as he provides snacks Annie does not

think are healthy for me.

I’ve heard my people talk of trips to art galleries followed by something called margaritas. From

earlier trips these outings seem to make humans in these parts loquacious and happy followed

by food and more margaritas. We Bosties are more intrinsically driven I think and less prone to

outside influences such as tequila. Personally, a little chicken broth is heavenly. The days are

blissful and warm in Tubac. Annie applies sunscreen to my tender fur each day and rubs the

excess on herself. Clark seems resistive to this concept and has subsequently blistered his

hide. He calls it a tan. I shake my head at him and wonder. As I have previously written, I like

pretty much all the differences that go along with living here a short time. The atmosphere, the

southwest dog food, the siestas, rides in the truck, blah blah blah. To me the differences aren’t

better nor worse than my beloved Montana they just help me celebrate our sameness.

Vaya con dios, my friends.


Sep 10, 2020

Enya Says, Yup She's back at it!


Hello fellow canines and humans I have encountered along the trail. It’s twilight at this Ranch where I live with Annie and Clark. It was a blustery day. Very different from the fur-warming days of the past weeks sharing mid-morning lounging with Annie and Clark on the deck. The wind blew and that unsettles me.  One of my thoughts was, “something is rolling in.” I hoped it was not something “new” creeping its way into our lives. Like you, I’ve had quite enough of new things moving along the edge of where we live and getting comfortable at our doorsteps. 

I miss romping with my friends, catching a sniff of strange tail on my roadside strolls with 

Annie, and the abandon in the way we used to approach daily living. Don’t start up with me on social media. I live the life of Riley. Was he a French Poodle? You clowns should have it so good. Tonight’s table menu consisted of roasted chicken scraps, a heavily buttered plate from left-over corn on the cob, topped off with a nice spoon of 3 day old cheesecake. I’m happy. 

It’s just different these days. Not bad, worse, infirmary, just different. We strive for balance in our lives here at the Ranch. I’m a firm believer in the notion that if you don’t have a roadmap, any road will get you there, thus we wake in the morning and share a cup of Joe, good conversation and turn our gaze and thoughts to how to make a smidgen of difference for good in the world. Today, I consciously decided not to chase the garden chipmunk.  He may have been disappointed but it was my small contribution to helping nature remain calm for a few minutes. 

Annie is busy with everything but especially over the past 4 months. Clark isn’t falling apart but his old hips and back ain’t what they used to be...whatever that was. I’ve noted he doesn’t have his usual alacrity (a word I heard on NPR). I hear Annie tell her people that “Clark is 

coming around.” In our canine world this usually means someone is coming over to sniff your butt. I don’t see that happening with Clark anytime soon. 

Annie’s deck flowers snag your breath away. I think we’re doing good at slowing things down and letting the goodness of each day sink in. I’m sending you all love and good snacking.

Your Bostie friend,


Jul 21, 2020

The Hula Hoop Lady... Iris

Where to begin... We have lived in Missoula at the Wilma for almost a month. Daily characters arrive in this building and outside this building at Caras Park. The story of how we arrived will follow this one tonight. 
I think of these unusual characters who enter my lexicon quite often. My drawing tablet is carried and I create quick sketches, discretion applied of course. Trying to capture the feeling, the subtle nuance of the moment... and answering the question "Why this person?"
The Hula Hoop Lady, who I shall name Iris, entered my life several times as I walked my pooch Enya. I'm quite positive Enya has been fascinated with Iris as well. Iris is bold with her hula hoops, she loves clothing on the scant side and (absolutely love this) is quite proud of her body and abilities! So yes, I've been fascinated and charmed by her. 
Yesterday afternoon though, something or someone had broken her heart... I can only hope it was a temporary break. Her outfit was fit for a queen with sparkles and flowing soft chiffon. Her face was smudged with eyeliner and her cheeks were beyond rosy with the rubbing of her hands. Her hula hoops laid quiet at her feet. I felt that I should look away but my heart wanted to help. 
This morning I awoke to the drawing above and I thought about what life hands us. 
Our morning meditation is always greeted with this website by Garrison Keillor: 

The poem this morning fit perfect. 

Dawn Revisited
by Rita Dove

Imagine you wake up
with a second chance: The blue jay
hawks his pretty wares
and the oak still stands, spreading
glorious shade. If you don’t look back,
the future never happens.
How good to rise in sunlight,
in the prodigal smell of biscuits –
eggs and sausage on the grill.
The whole sky is yours
to write on, blown open
to a blank page. Come on,
shake a leg! You’ll never know
who’s down there, frying those eggs,
if you don’t get up and see.