Dear Grandpa, I love you - from your grand dog.

We're Family. I'm yours. You're mine.

My mom and you and me and Grandma and the kids and creatures roaming our backyards.

I look up to you, Grandpa. We all do.

You taught us how to live - you gave us our last name - Ayers.

You showed us all how to rock and roll and ride through life.

Even now, that you don't feel so well.

It's Grandpa Grrrrrrrr time!!!!

Whether you're having a good day or bad - nothing perks us all up, like a good grrrrrr.

Grandpa, you understand, without words, just what I need.

You get my priorities! First project upon visiting: creating total mayhem.

When it comes to play time - you can really last all day! No one is as patient as you, grandpa.

And you get my 2nd priority after play time: toy box inventory.

You're a rad dad.

You taught your girl to be a rad mom. My mom.

Thank you.

Here you and my mom are, camping and riding bikes in the desert. I love camping! 

You taught us all, the whole family, the love of play time, love of nature, love of life.

And you've had the same grrrr friend for 67 years. Grandma Ayers. That's awesome. She's a lucky gal.

Here you are, horsing around on an anniversary, acting like kids. Yeah! That's the stuff!

I try to give back, Grandpa.

Here, I'm helping you with a brake job.  On thanksgiving day. When I'd REALLY rather eat turkey.

What I wouldn't give for a good brake job right now. With turkey and mashers. I miss you. We live too far away...

For you, I jump into a carry-on bag, Grandpa.

Put up with all that airplane travel...  just for you.

And do my carry-on bag dog thing.

You're totally worth it, Grandpa.

Because at the end of the bag - is your lap.

I can't imagine a day without you in it, Grandpa.

I love you, big guy. We all do.

Cutest couple ever. Of all time. Love you, Grandpa/dad, Grandma/mom.    Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org                                 

Here was our family 16 years ago, on your 50th wedding anniversary.

I wasn't even born yet, but my fellow grandkids made the picture. And mom's on the left, the one that writes Surf Dog Diaries with me.

 

Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

 

 

 

And then, life changed.

We came back.  I did the carry on bag thing. But it wasn't a happy visit - we came to see you in the hospital.

I did my best Therapy Dog thing. So did the rest of the family.

We tried to help you get your memory back after the stroke. By looking at old photos.

Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Good times.

Bad times.

The ride.

The ups and downs of life.

 

 

Whatever life brings, we're in it together.

When you were sick, we were trying to act normal. So, we went out on the deck and had a little fun.

We were cheating at cards. You know, like the famous painting?

Here we are on the deck at the care place - playing cards. Or should I say, cheating?  My mom is shooting pictures - she's not that great at cards anyway.    Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

My advice to grandma: don't over think it.

 Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Just deal with the cards you're dealt.

We're all working on that. 

Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

 

Yeah!! That's it, grandma!!  GO girl!       

 

 

 

 

Now it's my turn.... 

Here's my best card shark look:

My best Card Shark look.                                           Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org           

Doodle, top dog, of the Ayers family card game.            Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Super Jack - the hand. How fitting!       Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Woo hoooo! I'm top dog in the Ayers family card game!

Here's my winning hand, grandpa. Can you believe it?

I call it "Super Jack."

Cuz that's your name.

 

 Grandpa Jack Ayers!

Who knows what lies ahead?

All that matters is today.

And love.

Any good dog could tell you that....

SuperJack!!!

With love from your grand dog - your dinky doxie BFF - your Pen Pal.....

Doodle Ayers

Surf Dog Diaries

Paddling out for a friend on a chilly, wind-whipped day. All 400 of us. Surf dogs 'n friends.

For a dinky dog town, we showed up in force. It’s who we are in Hood River, Oregon.

Today was a paddle out ceremony in honor of longtime Hood River waterman Steve Gates.

He was owner of Big Winds and was a mainstay of the Gorge windsurfing, kiting and paddling scene from back in the day.

Photo courtesy BigWinds.com

Steve created the Columbia Gorge Paddle Challenge, one of the top standup paddle boarding races in the country, held right here where we’re paddling out today.

His waterman skills were amazing! He was a gnarly paddler for Hood River Outrigger Canoe Club, where he paddled OC-6’s through it all.

He was always smiling, even though he faced the uncertainty of cancer. He fought it like a warrior - like a windsurfer. He showed us how to face challenges we thought we could never handle. He paddled, and built a business, and ran our town as Mayor, and our windsurfing organization and our paddling scene. And he had a full family life.

He gave it all - he gave it back, right up to the end.

The end? Life is so unfair. Friggin’ cancer.

He gave his heart to our community. And on a cold and blustery day, we said thanks. We, of tiny Gorge towns, on a blustery winter day, donned wetsuits and dry suits and ski parkas and jumped on boards. We paddled out for our friend. Ohana.

Here’s what Rod Parmenter captured overhead on a drone:

My dog son, my dachshund, Doodle, Hood River style. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, Dog Diary.org

This helpful retriever grabbed a flower from Steve Gate’s paddle out. Bringing a piece of Steve back to the beach for family and friends gathered there. Photo: (c) Kris Kohlhase Kendall

Doodle and I double-tripled our wetsuit layers, and paddled out with about 400 others.

Together, we rode all sizes, shapes and styles of boards, from half-submerged surfing short boards to old school windsurf long boards, to kayaks, outriggers, surf skis, trad and inflatable SUPs.

If it floated, it was there.

If you hang out on the Columbia River, you were here.

A bunch more folks stood on the beach and cheered. And cried. And hugged. Dogs chased balls and tried to help their humans cope.

It was a frosty, windy day. The house rattled all night and all morning. It was hard to get out there into the water. Conditions, not the best for paddling. Half of our community has already left for warmer climes, in Baja.

But everyone of us stood up for Steve. We’re standup paddle boarders. Everyone of us- on a board, or a shore - wherever in the world you are.

And the air warmed up here, and it was an endless summer moment… for Steve.

Steve Gates memorial paddle 11-24-19. Photo courtesy Lisa Peterson

That’s Doodle and I lower right on the blue board - Steve Gates Day in Hood River 11/24/19. Photo courtesy Lisa Peterson

RIP Mr. Gates.

May you find fair winds and epic paddling on the other side.

Much of our windsurfing/kitesurfing/paddling community winters in southern Baja. This Hood River crowd paddled out for Steve in La Ventana today, at about the same time we Oregonians paddled. Photo: (c) Heidi Stiefenhofer Ribkoff‎

Speaking of the other side…

Those of us who can sneak away all winter, and escape that slicing Gorge wind (and snow) - do.

Here’s what Hood Riverites in La Ventana (Baja Sur, Mexico) saw on their Paddle Out for Steve today…

Heidi Stiefenhofer Ribkoff‎ and friends paddled out, at about the same time we Oregonians hit Steve’s Beach, a.k.a. Nichols Basin, back home - 2,100 miles away.

Is that you in the distance, Steve?

Paddler in La Ventana standing up for Steve 11-24-19. Photo: (c) Heidi Stiefenhofer Ribkoff‎

I'm worried about my big brown friend. I'm worried about surgery Thursday.

This is Klaus, my big brown friend.

This is his signature Zen brown dog deep thoughts by Klaus pose.

I love Klaus. He's a big, brown happy-go-lucky guy. With a big dog smile and a big warm heart- always happy to see you on the trail.

But Klaus is really getting old. His coat is changing from brown to yellow. I'm really worried about him. He can't do all the things he loves to do anymore.

That's the only thing I don't like about being a dog. The 7:1 dog rule. Every year, dogs get seven years older. Who made up that stupid rule? Can we please change it?

Big and brown. Size, shape and color

When Klaus' mom Carole adopted him as a puppy at the shelter, the sign said he was good with cats and would grow up to be a medium size brown dog. So they took him home -medium was just right.

But.... turns out, he takes up the entire back seat!!  You have to fold down BOTH seats to make him fit! He is Huge. Not even a little bit medium.

Not that size matters. Except when it comes to heart.

Color matters - in a thank God we're not all the same kind of way. All of my friends have color.

                                                                                                              Eloise and Klaus    Photo (c): Barb Ayers DogDiary.org

Headstrong women

Speaking of not being dull... Klaus has a sister - Eloise - she is headstrong. In a good way. She just can't stand being on a leash.

                                                                                                               Photo (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

That just could be the new definition of headstrong. I'd call my mom headstrong and she doesn't wear a leash either.

Meanwhile, Klaus is always so Chill.

The friends we make - the crap that happens....

Klaus and I love walking our favorite trail in our home town, Mosier, OR in the Columbia River Gorge. The most amazing place on Earth.

Right next to that spot where, a year and a half ago, the oil train derailed.

Point is, crap happens.

Me and Klaus on the trail in our hometown- Mosier, Oregon     Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

We're on the journey together. The ups and downs. The ride of life. Not every moment is perfect.

I am having surgery this week. They are removing a tumor from my head. I'll be in a cone of shame for several weeks. So, you may not see much of me for a while. I'll do my best to write and tell you how it's going, but mom is a total wreck. Even though she's headstrong. 

We had a rough vet year last year, after losing my two old dog bros within months of each other. I'm only 6.5 (45 in dog years) - it's not time for me to fall apart just yet. I was hoping to avoid the vet and old age altogether.

Whatever it is - we face it together.

Thanks for being there.

Doodle