Anna Blake Here on the high desert prairie, the grasses are a flat dry tan, and we won’t see green again all winter. But as the ground lies fallow, it’s as if the sky stands up even taller and says watch this! Each sunrise is a pink and yellow watercolor wash that starts as safety-vest orange with … Read more
Saints preserve us. This weekend, Jolene is having her friend, Tachi, sleep over. I’ll believe the sleep part when I get some. They have been running out the dog door, letting it slam-slam behind them. Then barreling back through in a gray cloud of leaves and dirt with another double slam. Like a pair of … Read more
I usually write about living things, but today I want to write about a beloved Halloween costume. Leave it to me to get sentimental about plastic weapons, fake fur, and a rubber werewolf head. Sentimental about all the animals that shared it with me. It started at my first dressage barn. To say we over-celebrated … Read more
You know when you catch a toe and you have a little stumble and try to right yourself. Suddenly, you’re taking giant steps, hunched forward, ready to brace with your arms, trying to catch yourself before falling. So now you’re at a dead run, refusing to fall. It would’ve been easier to just fall. Finally, … Read more
I have a too-cute collection of plush dog toys Jolene thinks are silly and beneath her. I understand; I didn’t play with dolls when I was little. Most of my dogs don’t play ball either. They know it’s a game that always ends the same way. Where is the fun in that? Call it splitting … Read more
Jolene is changing faster than the fall colors. It isn’t just that she’s grown lacey bloomers on her backside. Sometimes she’s elegant, alert, and just sizzling smart. Then she’s full-on tug-monster and bitey-face queen. Almost mature, with peaceful lap-sitting moments that exude Zen-like wisdom, and the next moment she’s running past you with the toilet … Read more
My farm has a cathedral. It started as a tiny chapel, one of five deciduous trees on my prairie farm. She is an elm, what they call a weed tree, but we aren’t picky out here. Just the same, I didn’t give her much credit in those early years. At first, she cast a limited umbrella … Read more
Jolene tilts her head when she listens. Like Nipper, the phonograph-listening RCA dog, she focuses with intense concentration, adjusting her pointy ears like antennas. Jolene is so tuned into her environment that it’s the farthest thing from a game. Maybe it’s a girl-dog thing. Mister, bless his heart, has slept through Texas tornadoes, but nothing … Read more
I don’t recognize this young dog of mine. She doesn’t care, except that I’m such an old fart. Here’s the catch-up: Two weeks ago, Jolene and I went to her first scentwork class. She listened to the instructor. The scent went into a steel bowl set in the middle of a space. She found it, … Read more
I’m fine. Two weeks ago, Jolene was in the emergency room, and this week it was my turn. But this is the deal. I’m not looking for sympathy. It’s Thursday, and I just want to tell a story. I’m a horse trainer who spent fifteen years writing about horses every Thursday night. Check my website … Read more