I’ve been feeling sentimental lately. Windsurfing season is back in the Gorge.
All those years - and trips - and dogs, starting in 1987. Then, my dogs and I took the plunge, and moved here, 12 years ago.
Sum- sum - summertime. Here it is, all over again! Time for windsurfing, BBQ’s, hiking, stand up paddle boarding and camping. As if for the first time, only way better. Because you have memories and moments. Like this one. And that one.
Same place (Hood River.)
Different dog. Different day, different year.
Different rig - now, a Honda Element named Gidget, parks in the driveway. For decades, old Silver the Nissan Pathfinder took us all on so many grand adventures.
It’s not that moment after we came out of the frost and snow of winter into the joy and light of spring.
Now, after that annual rite, came a series of sun-drenched endless summer days. Days we windsurfers, standup paddle boarders, OC-6’ers and other outdoor dogs, live for - all year.
This season, and sun, make me thankful. For every moment and friendship and family moment along the way. Every life adventure - massive, or minuscule; glad or sad.
These moments between moments along the way.
Like going back home to San Diego and seeing mom and dad, now married nearly 65 years!!!
Dad had a rough year last year. We all did. Whatever life brings, we’re in it together.
Like old friends with old photo albums - like my old bestie, weather woman Pat Brown, back in San Diego.
Albums, you say? What the heck are those? With actual printed photos?
Like this one….
Pat had a photo in her album of my first surf basset, Howdy Doody, back in Ocean Beach’s Dog Beach, right after I rescued him.
Of course we were both smiling.
Howdy went on to become Co-Chair of Ocean Beach Town Council’s Dog Beach Committee. We spent every moment at Dog Beach. Like all San Diego dog lovers!
I’ll never forget the day my kitty adopted me, at San Diego County Animal Control. Of course, Pat was there, too.
After that first shoulder mount by Kihei at the shelter, this became our normal way of hanging out.
Here’s a cat blog she later “wrote" about life with dogs in OB.
One dog and one cat later, Elvis, Howdy’s step son, picked out our next kitty. Of course, she wrote about life with dogs, too.
Three dogs later, Elvis and Dude picked out Doodle, a doxie at the shelter in Oregon.
He was destined to become a surf dog. He learned from the best - the basset brothers. He worked his way from the back of the board to the nose in record time.
Today, Doodle carries the name, and the heart, of Dude, basset #3 and Howdy Doody, numero uno.
Nature renews - every day. We can, too.
Sunrise - sunset. Here’s a look at the remarkable syncline on our front porch today in Mosier:
And here’s that view on a day that seemed so terribly soft-focus: the morning after Elvis crossed the rainbow bridge.
One month later, here in Mosier we had the Oil Train derailment. That winter was Snowmeggadon. Then Dude died. A year later, the Eagle Creek Fire torched out beautiful Columbia River Gorge. What a crappy year.
I remember when we first moved here to the Gorge - building the dog run was my first home improvement project. Elvis and Dude cemented the deal, with their paws - to make this new place feel like home:
This morning, sprinklers in the yard filled up those empty paws on the porch - of my dearly departed basset sons.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit, I am a little teary. My face is happy/sad - I look just like a basset hound.
Wistful moments add depth to life - and brightness to sunny days.
These are moments and memories I’d never give back.
These are paw prints on our souls. Of those, the few, who help us through the tougher times.
Of those who sometimes make life tough, when they go away.
Hold close to those, to them, to these.
MosierFest was yesterday in our tiny town - an all-day celebration. As renowned blues performer Curtis Salgado sang, “I Want My Dog To Live Longer."
Oh yes I do.
Funny that he sang that song the same day I was already feeling it.
Then again, all of us who love dogs, feel it.
OK, OK - all you kitties - I’m sure he was singing for you, too.
People and pets. One family. One species.
Sharing the ups and downs - the ride of life.