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).