The late Cowboy 1 waiting for me to quit messing around in the kitchen and get moving outside.
The late Cowboy 1 waiting for me to quit messing around in the kitchen and get moving outside.
Cowboy, 02/23/16 — 10/26/23. A year and a half of cancer but herding me right to the end.
In this country, junipers have to do.
Cowboy’s hips are too sore to use the dog door. I go outside with him through the kitchen. He lets me know when. The moon is still up at 3 am. He stands by my side and I lean down to stroke his soft coat. It’s cool and we take in the night.
Cowboy wasn’t feeling great this morning but he perked up as any New Mexican would at the sight of spring runoff in lower Las Huertas Creek. The creek ran more often during the lifetimes of my three previous dream ranch dogs, Sadie, Molly and Cooper. Even Orno Creek just below us used to run most …
Sunday morning, just listening. Then this good-time Charlie shows up.
Cowboy always feels better when we’re out walking in our front yard. I feel better when he feels better.
dreamranch 