Sparky Says!

 

8/19/23

Sparky Says.

Howdy, howdy to you all. Let's get this boxcar moving. For starters you should know I'm a squirrel. Not an ordinary run-of-the track squirrel but a special squirrel. On the scientific side of things I'm called a grey squirrel and on the taxonomy scale squirrels are frequently referred to as a rodent and although we have a reputation as being among the "cleanest" of the rodent clan, I detest and resist any affiliation to that bunch of scoundrels called rodent. But I'm getting ahead of myself..a tendency we squirrels possess.

My authorship follows that of the single greatest pooch to ever live. I know because I watched that Boston Terrier for a good long time. Her name was Enya and as many of you know, was the master of Annie and the herd boss of clark. She passed along not long ago after many years of bringing joy and happiness into the lives of those less fortunate, this would be most of you doing the reading. As some of you also know, Enya was a splendid writer and most significantly the author of "Enya Says." I have read all of her work and enjoyed it immensely.

Her pennings brought laughter and great mirth to many squirrel nests across this mountain valley. She is sorely missed but as the poet Robert Frost wrote: life goes on.

This brings me to my current dilemma and state of mind. It is such: Annie and clark had their train jump the track when Enya passed. I know because it played out in front of me. Holy crap kids, it was a catsasstrophe. Seldom in my time have I witnessed such moping, aimless wandering, hang down and general helplessness as these two displayed. Furthermore, it was every day. I kept wondering when is this malaise going to dissipate? As a group we squirrels are not inclined to wait for things to happen. As a clan we MAKE things happen. I've been told some humans are not fond of this personality trait in squirrels. How many times have you heard the story about a squirrel eating through the wiring in a car or house attic? This is utter squirrelshit. If it weren't for we squirrels running our nocturnal patrols, the chipmunks would have a candidate running for the US Senate. That should put you restless hearts to rest.

Now where was I? Oh yes, the Annie/clark malaise. Cutting to the chase, I decided to take action. It went something like this: one day clark was outside throwing a peanut at my friends the stellar jays. Like us, they favor the peanut. I watched and waited until their gullet was full and flew off leaving a few peanuts on the ground whereupon I lept to action. I darted down from my favorite tree and snagged a peanut. clark saw me and threw a few more peanuts to the ground whereupon I bravely secured each one and deposited them one by one in my various nests. Apparently this humored clark and he continued to toss peanuts and as he did he began to whistle. I don't remember the tune but it was simple, probably the only one he could generate. As he whistled and tossed another peanut, I returned and performed my task.

Here's the funny thing. I surmised that clark thought I was retrieving peanuts because of his whistling. Here's the thing sports fans: humans are simple, silly creatures. Can you imagine my chagrin when I realized what clark thought he was up to. I'm certain when he ran out of peanuts clark went into the house and told Annie how he was training a squirrel. How could he know that I've read the literature on Pavlov's studies with the German Shepards?

So you muse, what does this have to do with the malaise? Well, just about everything because my peanut fetching was the cause of Annie and clark thinking and doing something besides feeling sad. Certainly I understand that I'm a stand-in for Enya right now but I'm OK with that and what thoughtful squirrel wouldn't feel the same.

Tomorrow is a new day and I'm sure there will be more peanuts and more whistling. l'm prepared to carry Enya's mantra of spreading joy and happiness to the lives of those less

fortunate. By the way, my name is Sparky.

Stay tuned, do good and get your peanuts where you can.

-Sparky

Enya's Obituary

 

Arf, arf, and a hearty bow wow to my doggie and human friends. You should know, I've taken the Rainbow Bridge. For you historian types the official date of my movements to the next level was April 4, 2023. Weep not for me, amigos. Mine was an uncommon life of 16 people years. Just so you know, I penned this obituary. It seems prudent to do these days. Well, what I tell you is true and factual. 

Annie, my Mom, arrived to take me with her one day. I could sense she was a smidgen uncertain but she is a sensitive one and alert to things not readily visible. She knew we needed each other, thus Annie became my Mom. 

Some obituaries are lengthy. I've read many in my previous life. Bow Wow... who cares where you attended obedience school and graduated magna cum laude and then became the Master of the Chow Pound? Truly, what is the earthly significance of such? Moving along here rather quickly as I know some of you readers have a wee span of attention, like Pomeranians. I'll cut to the dog chase here. I've lived a life worth living. Annie, my Mom, was also my heart and I knew hers belonged to me. We traveled together, walked the woods, and shared the morning yogurt. Her song is in my bones. Just today I heard Annie say, "good morning Enya" to me. I reciprocate. 

Thank you my canine and human friends for the pleasure of meeting you and sniffing around. I am well and moving along with my nose on the trail. 

Adios for now, 

Enya

Myrna

 Myrna Kay (Daniel) Orr, of Lincoln, MT died in her home, surrounded by her family on January 4, 2023. She was 80 years old. 

Myrna was born on September 24, 1942 in Great Falls, MT to Dolf and David Calvert. 

Myrna married Lee Daniel on March 19, 1957. They raised 3 children in Laredo on the outskirts of Havre, Montana. 

 Mom was stubborn and witty, which made it clear where the rest of the family got it from. She had a heart so big and she always put a smile on your face. Playful, bold, sassy, a story teller who loved to laugh! Mom loved to play: she went sledding with her kids, threw on the ice skates and down to Big Sandy creek they all went (frozen cow pies and all). She played baseball, she loved to fish and was quite a swimmer in her days. She would pack up a picnic lunch and take the family to Fresno Lake. During one of the outings she saved a young boy and proceeded to lose her top. She recovered nicely! From a young age, mom fed harvest crews, baked bread and created amazing casseroles. Grandkids, great grandkids and friends knew of her amazing talents with cinnamon rolls. She mothered Uncle Mark’s kids along the way and would go about adopting any friend we brought home. 

 

Mom married Bob on February 11, 2004. Mom and Bob led an incredibly rich life filled with trips, good food, great drink and laughter. They had many friends and adventures with their friends. Mom’s friends were her diamonds that shined bright. Once she met you, you were hers… heart and soul. She was always helping her friends, she was an amazing listener with a huge heart. Her creativity and talents were endless. She was savvy with social media, keeping in touch with her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Mom loved animals. Many dogs, cats, rabbits, guinea pigs, sheep, and birds entered our lives and entertained us with their antics. Grandkids and great grandkids knew they were honored when they were allowed to feed the deer and the birds in her backyard. We were a lucky bunch of peeps!

 

Myrna is survived by children, Annette Diane Clark (Trace Clark), Aaron Lee Daniel (Tracy Daniel), & George Allen Daniel (Nancy Daniel); her 11 grandchildren; and her 18 great grandchildren. When marrying Bob mom enlarged her family by 5 kids, several grandkids and great grandkids.

 

Enya Says

 Enya Says

September 13, 2022

From the Ranch

 

Woof Woof to all my canine and human friends. Dang, it’s been a long time since I last felt the urge to do some writing. In my defense, I’ve been busy. Keeping track of Annie and clark is not a task for the faint hearted as they are both mobile and have a number of interests outside this house that simply do not warrant my attention nor the indiscriminate sacrifice of my valuable energy. Furthermore, although I hesitate to share personal type information on social media, I have been dealing with some health matters. My hearing is shot. I don’t know how it happened but it did. I knew it was fading when I could no longer hear Annie’s sweet callings and murmurings. Clark’s I could detect as he can be quite audible, even by human standards. When the recommendation for hearing aids came back from the audiologist, I objected as I am resistant to things being inserted into my body cavities. It’s one of the few things we canines universally agree upon and a circumstance where many humans accept our counsel. If you doubt this, just ask your humans how they feel about their upcoming colonoscopy. 

 

Hopefully this isn’t reading like a newsletter from the canine Rescue Mission, but it seems that when one thing falls apart there’s usually another to follow and so it has been with my vision. Annie and Clark took me to my Vet recently. He’s the one with the unusually large hands. The Vet verdict is that while I have some “close up” vision the rest of it ain’t so great. Luckily, I can still see this keypad. I get around good enough but these days I rely more upon my nose to figure out where I am. For this I am thankful as I have seen (when I had vision) many humans with fading vision stumble bumble around without benefit of a superior olfactory sense as we pooches possess. 

 

All things considered chaps, life is still pretty darn good. Hey, I’m 15 years old and the chow gets a good grade, I have multiple beds and blankets to support my more frequent snoozings, I  get outside for a spot of fresh air, I always catch the chipmunk in my dreams, and I get more carrying around by Annie. I am particularly fond of the latter as she always loves me up and she smells good. It’s a case of canine social security. 

 

I just love that Fall is creeping in. It’s my favorite season. Sure, some of my friends complain about what lies ahead, namely winter but I try to stay in the moment and keep my keen nose in the wind. When I still had hearing I liked listening to that old Bob Seeger song with the verse  “strange how the night moves with Autumn closing in.” I look forward to a few more campfires here at the Ranch with Annie and clark, possibly a visit from one of my new best friends, Max and a tasty morsel in my chow dish. I also wish Annie would let me eat chocolate because Halloween looms not far off. 

 

Well friends, it’s adios and bow wow for now. I trust this epistle finds you well and you are being treated kindly. Don’t forget, you get what you give. Let the fools pet you a bit. 

 

Your friend, 

Enya

Kindness

 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

-- 

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. 

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.

Good Vibrations

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

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.

Enya.

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,

Enya

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: 

http://www.garrisonkeillor.com

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.

Shifts and Evolutions

Storm clouds they are building. Even in that, there is beauty. I remind myself, time and time again, it's all in perspective. The cool mountain air soothes me and calms my nerves. Yes, I walk a great deal. Bless my daughter for always knowing... "Let's go for a walk mom."
My son's beautiful family... they feel miles away (more than the 60 they already are). They help with the family grocery store (and they run a butcher shop) so needless to say they are keeping Trace and I safe by not exposing us. The reality, many families are living life in similar fashion, if not worse scenarios, with possible death or sick loved ones.
Trace I hold him close, he's due for hip replacement. It's severity showing by each passing day, movement is painful... but there again how lucky we feel to be alive and know our kids are safe.
Prayers and energy work are completed every morning, for not only does Mother Earth need it but her living creatures (including us humans) need it badly.

Shifts and Evolutions are needed, are thoughts to be analyzed and put in place. New ways of thinking, of healing, of questioning. Breathing (as a wise friend once told me) is our one true gift on this planet and it's absolutely free. Use your breath to calm, to cleanse and to consider your creative future. 

Enya Says

Howdy, howdy to all my western and eastern friends. It may be difficult for some of you residing in the west to realize I have a few friends east of the Missouri River, but I do. A book you should all consider reading is “Travels with Charlie,” penned by Mr. Steinbeck. It’s not about Steinbeck, it’s about Charlie...one of us, a canine. We canines have long languished in the shadow of the humans we love and cherish. Charlie tells the truth. Some of that telling is rugged so if you’re a member of a faint-hearted breed like Pom-Poms or whatever, this may not be the reading for you. Back to the book. Charlie postulates that the West actually begins on the west bank of the Missouri River separating Bismarck from Mandan. If the reverse postulate is true, East begins on the east bank of same river. By that measure I have one friend who lives in the East, Bismarck. His name is Winston. Possibly more on the differences between westerners and easterners as space warrants. 

I’ll dispense with the civilities of being here in Tubac first off. Nothing we’ve experienced has eaten away at our affection for this place. I know as I eavesdrop on the end-of-the-day conversations with Annie and clark they feel the same. Sure, there’s been a little more rain and a few blustery days but I hasten to remind you I can take a walk here every day without my winter boots and scarf.  Try those muck boots on for size, you diehards. I’ve sighted a few backyard lizards but nothing I would hang over the hearth at home. I’m keeping my eye (the good one) peeled for a suitable trophy and story to match but I’m resolved to go home without filling out my tag if it so happens. 

I’m eating well, and the cuisine is excellent with numerous treats. I might be overdoing this siesta thing but it seems to serve me well. Sometimes clark and I siesta at the same time. Annie reports this generates a bucket of snoring and calls it a cacophony. I don’t think this is a compliment as she says it interferes with her art. In defense of clark and I we support the arts in many other ways. What’s a little snoring? 

Moving on to timely events in my life. Some things have changed down here for we canines. I’m not sure I’m in favor of these changes as change is not in my blood line. We Bostie’s are all about the action. We want to sniff, explore, push the boundary on canine convention. We’re just naturally bred leaders. You’ve been around me. You all know I’m smart, well read, listen to things I don’t believe are true. It challenges my leadership traits when I’m told what to do, and how often to do it. Annie and clark are calling this new thing “corornavirus.”  For me, it has so many syllables I can’t pronounce it. I just know what Annie and clark are talking about when I hear that word. Clark talks about the bell-shaped swerve and exponyentals. Maybe I’ve underestimated what he thinks he knows. 

Nonetheless, I can tell from our daily drive-throughs in Tubac things have slowed down. The dancing and fighting I used to see at Tubac Jacks by noon just isn’t there. The somewhat large peeps with Minnesota, Iowa, and Wisconsin license plates on their cars are no longer waddling in the middle of the street. I can’t believe it but I think the Mariachi Band has packed it in and are staying home with their loved ones and margaritas. 

Here’s what’s going on out there means to you my fellow pooch gringos. Butt sniffing has been restricted. If a crew of 6 dogs approach you, much as you desire, sniff their ass from a distance of at least 6 feet. You never know where these rascals have traveled. Maybe nowhere, but maybe somewhere. Furthermore, they are no less concerned about where your ass has been and the company you keep. I’m ok with this as my olfactory sense is still working. For those of you not so fortunate...keep your nose safe. (See next page for more)

Here’s where it gets confusing for me. If a single comrade approaches you, it’s acceptable to give a sniff and a huff but for no more than 3 seconds and conclude that with a butt bump. Make it count.  

More than 3 seconds places you at risk of something getting into your wiring and from what I’ve read the results are unsavory. I treasure my wiring. For you male types out there: keep your preferred rear leg locked up when passing by your personal friend, the fire hydrant. 

My personal grooming has accelerated. Last week I asked Annie for sanitized warm water in my dish twice a day and I put all fours in that dish for 20 seconds several times each day.  Actually, it’s quite soothing. I don’t lick my ass quite as often anymore. I realize I’m missing out on valuable nutrients but hey, my age puts me in the middle of the “at risk” cluster of canines. I’m not about to take unnecessary chances. I’ve nearly got clark trained and I’m not risking all the work I’ve put into him. In the evening, I watch old Westerns with Annie and clark. Sometimes we have popcorn, which I’m told is still safe for consumption. The brethren I feel sorry for are the pooches in containment with no one to visit them. Some aren’t feeling so good. Some don’t have any help. Some are shuffling on. 

So my furry friends count your bow-wow blessings. Don’t be a stupido out there with butt sniffing and public scratching. We’ve been around a long time and we know a few things about pushing through. Remember the Bostie credo:  “be well, be safe, be nice.”

Arf Arf.

Your friend,

Enya

Enya Says!

.Enya Says

February, 2020

If my writing seems a little lethargic blame it on the siesta. Since my arrival with Annie and clark almost a week ago all I want to do is snooze...siesta here. Not that I don’t nap in Montana but this is different. Here’s how: the sun shows up early here and shines all day long. Clark tells me it’s the same time zone as Montana but I think he’s off somehow. He usually lapses into some explanation of our proximity to the equater here in Tubac, blah, blah, blah. I accept his explanation but he uses so many syllables for this simple difference that  it wears me out. Thus I return to the siesta. 

We have a nice spot here in Tubac. It’s on the outer ring of the old Tubac Golf Course. This translates to many empty lots all around us which in turn means some wild ass stuff going on around us. The Roadrunners are in a class by themselves around these parts. I don’t know much about this species. They can fly cause I’ve seen em but they also run like nothing I’ve seen before. A pack of Montana coyotes would get gassed and give up chasing one of these guys for brunch. Furthermore, they have a beak that would make a snake shake involuntarily.  Rattlers don’t mess with em. Right now the Roadrunners seem to be in love. They fly up on the veranda roof and call out this quite pathetic moan. I’m sure it’s the love moan. I’ve heard it from clark when Annie isn’t around so I have experience in this matter. It’s a love moan for sure which means they probably won’t pick on me for now. 

I’ve saved the best for last kiddos. It wasn’t a day after our unloading that Annie spotted a Great Horned owl in a big ass tree outside our dwelling. Try to have your morning constitution  outside with this guy scrutinizing your butt. It makes me queasy as ever and I do my best to shorten things up. I thought he might find a new home with all the commotion Annie and clark bring to the back yard. But no. He’s still here. In fact, this guy has taken to leaving a gift almost every morning for Annie. It’s disgusting. I see a head and some unidentifiable and inedible body parts out on the courtyard. Thankfully, clark gets the shovel and pitches the gift over the wall (not political). I can focus better on my day once that carnage is pitched. Hey, I almost forgot this part. Have you ever looked an owl in the eye? Well don’t. They try to hypnotize you. Those orbs bore into your brain and before you know what’s happened you’ve dived into the swimming pool and this is not so good if you are a Boston Terrier. We sink...fast. Avert your eyes if an owl is making eye contact with you. I’m convinced they want to control our mind and at any cost don’t get into a blinking contest with a Great Horned Owl. 

My Mom, Annie is painting up a storm since our arrival. This sun becomes her and it seems she floats at times through the day. I also know she has friends here that gather and talk about art, creativity and such. I’m in charge of clark during these times. I’m ok with that as it seems our siesta times overlap. 

Clark’s peeps from ND arrive Tuesday. I like them and one of them is bringing Winston. Like me he has four legs. He’s also white as the Montana snow and will defer attention from the owl to him. Ha. I’m not going to tell him. I think he should discover this by himself. I’m betting he’s going to get seriously constipated. I love being back here. I know the smells here and I’m dang grateful to be in the middle of this fun and discovery with Annie and clark.  Hey, who needs grass when you’ve got lizards under every rock? 

Keep your feathers dry my friends.  Until I feel inspired again. 

Enya.

Arriving at Another State of Mind

State of mind is a powerful influx in one's life.
A feeling of emotion tied to one's daily chatter, visions, or perceptions.
Humans do create their own vision.
The month of January has produced some tense worrisome emotions over the last 2 years. It has arrived with some medical woes, some disgruntlement with weather proportions (usually an overabundance) and some brooding thoughts that seem to have a life of their own.
Yes, we always know we are fortunate in this world and always full of gratitude but thoughts seem to drift around us like the start of winter cascading into a full blown blizzard before we know it.
Digging out is crucial and a game plan strategy is required.
Thank goodness for Tubac AZ! The game plan consists of getting out of Dodge and making a mad dash for the border ( we don't need no stinkin' walls :)
So having arrived ,letting our hair down with the help of several margaritas and some wonderful Southwest food, we begin to take in our new surroundings.
The first night here ,as the sun was setting low, the great horned owl treated us to his presence. He lives (yes daily) in our large pine tree on the rental property, often times depositing the innards of a rodent on the veranda. Love listening to the night time who's...who's. Our first gratitude for arriving.
Mother Nature always (and I mean always) kicks the funk right out of the ballpark.

The next morning this beauty arrived right outside of our breakfast nook. The brilliant red-orange magnified beside the brilliant firethorn berry bush. The color seeping into the canvas of the cardinal body. 

Life just sends one's heart soaring when you allow the beauty to soak in. I was reminded this morning of the beauty from both areas of our world. My daughter sent out a video (and pictures) of the snowy blizzard that had took hold in Montana. The grandkids were building snowmen, creating galaxies in the house and on the other end of the spectrum the grandkids in Augusta were out scoping and fishing...soaking up Mother Earth. 

Today the Bewick wren (3 of them) danced wildly in courtship rituals, chasing, chattering, scolding and strutting their playful selves. 

It's good to arrive at this present state of mind, on this beautiful planet we call Mother Earth. 

Flow

Just as paint flows upon the canvas, my thoughts flow upon the bedrock of my mind. Painting, creating, imagination and  energy are allowed to flow producing some startling visions and ideas. Overthinking is not allowed. It's never easy, it's complicated and thus messy. Possibilities of mistakes, as well as satisfaction, are endless. Paradox of life you might say. 
As most artists would testify to, I must release and create... everyday. Centering appears after these episodes, but if the creative process refuses to begin... nature calls and fresh air often causes the pump to be primed. Once primed, flow appears. 
So I would add allow your creativity to flow. What ever speaks to you: photography, visual art, dance, song, writing, movement and all fine things... allow it to happen. 
The world needs your gifts (yes, I know you've been told this time and time again). 

Enya Says

Enya Says

Winter, 2019

This correspondence has been overdue. I’m sure you’ve noted my literary absence and missed me. Dang, I’ve missed you as well and I hope this ushers some light into your lives. Possibly because 2019 is about to say “adios” I feel compelled to bring you up to speed on life around this Ranch. This writing is not to be confused with that thing called “ Christmas letter” mailed out to the masses by humans you no longer claim. To the contrary, those of you who read this are members of a highly select and discriminating clan. Doesn’t that make you feel special? Pressing on. We Bosties have a predisposition to summarize, condense, and communicate. After all, it’s all about communication, eh? It’s in this spirit that I share with you.

Although my eyesight and hearing are waning, I know radiance when it’s in front of me. Annie is such. Sometimes as I drift off for my mid-morning nap she comes to me. Floating along, riding the day’s current and holding a fine platter in her hands. On the plater is a biscuit just for me. I thank her, crunch a few nibbles and waft away into my slumber. I’ve observed her doing the same for Clark but he’s not dreaming and his platter contains cookies. Sometimes I covet his platter. 

Clark’s hearing and eyesight are much like mine. He’s OK as long as it’s just the three of us but I’ve noted a hint of verbal repetition when the peeps invade the Ranch. It causes him to be less chatty which I appreciate as I’ve heard it all before. To his credit, he provides me solace and runs interference when the small children come for a visit. Another observation: we canines develop much more rapidly than you neurotypicals. It’s impossible for me to convey to you how wee people disrupt my personal tranquility. Loss of naps, heightened alertness, penetrating squeals, my water dish moved to unfamiliar territory and the litany goes on. However, there is a little something redemptive about their visits. For two days after they go home, I have unlimited access to food particles left behind in their wake. Nonetheless, I shed more fur in one day than I do in a month. 

Looking ahead, I am euphoric that Annie and Clark have decided to return to Tubac this winter. These two manage to get a few things right from time to time. You all know how I feel about Tubac. That spot is just about more than one Boostie can manage. You know, there’s more proximity to the Equator in Tubac. I’ve only heard this and not fully sure what it means. I DO know that the desert sun is good for these aging bones. Of course there’s my old nemesis the lizard as well. Personally, I’ve never caught one but I’d know what to do if I did. In Tubac, the floor tiles are warm and I can nap anywhere. The leftovers are hopped up and the few slurps of mango margarita I’ve stolen are divine. We load up the truck in early February and return to the Ranch in April. I’m doing an on-line course in beginner Spanish in case the “right” Senor Bostie makes an appearance. Be on the lookout for my next letter...in 2020. Happy New Year to all!  Remember to be a nice person. 

Happy trails.

Enya

The Mystery of Friendship

Soft Furry Body

Allowing me to be Fully Myself

I feel your heartbeat

It matches my Own...

Human Perceptions... Expectations

Often Blocking Passage to Authenticity.

Not so through Creature's Eyes

Harmony Resounds

Grateful

for 

Living Souls Who Match My Own. 

Mystery of Friendship - Annie

Seymour's Attitude

Seymour

Seymour was a surly fellow
who could never quite get past being a part of the whole.
The village constructed the notion
that his wings were
addled
and this compromised his attitude...
Perhaps it was so.
He took to opening bottle caps on the pop
at the local grocer, drinking small amounts, replacing the lid,
and sneaking out.
He hoped someday to get caught.