live. work. dream.

Whenever I go MIA around here, it usually means I’ve been wrapped up is some major project – one that probably has something to do with three legged dogs. This time is no different.

I haven’t written since that silly Valentine’s Day post because I have been busy launching the all new and much improved Tripawds Gift Shop. This required dusting off the old right brain bits and lubricating my creative gears to come up with loads of new graphic designs for inspawrational three legged dog t-shirts, cards, stickers, mugs and other gift items.

It was fun designing all these new graphics, and it felt good doing it for something I am passionate about, without some client breathing down my neck telling me to make the text bold and red.

Oh, wait … the type on our new Tripawd Power design is bold and red! Well, not really… it’s Cooper Black actually, and more of a crimson. But there I go digressing, here’s the link if you want to talk about typefaces.

I would like to think this represents some of my best work. But that’s not saying much considering I haven’t done any real graphic design work since we sold our business nearly three years ago. But it is a nice feeling knowing that I still got it – if I ever really had it, that is. And it goes to prove that graphic design is like riding a bike, in more ways than one.

If you think you may have lost the touch, just jump back into your favorite Adobe product and start pedaling. And if your chain falls off and you just can’t get it to work right, call a professional. Anyone need a logo?

Our time in L.A. is nearing an end. Over forty days of living in the big city, and we’re getting homesick for our rig. It sits outside under a tree, and the birds are having a party on our roof. It’s time to get the rig out from under the shade, and under a blazing desert sky, where it belongs.

Any time we spend in cities is reassurance that we did the right thing by choosing to live like hillbillies.

We drove on the freeway, and it took us nearly two hours to travel 29 miles. Things are too fast, too crowded and just too much for us.

We’ve had a good visit with the family. Also met some world-renowned canine health professionals and interviewed them for Tripawds. And last week, ate at two of the best Asian restaurants we’ve been to in a while. Both are located in the San Gabriel Valley, where my parents live. These dining experiences reminded us that living in the city isn’t all bad.

Happy Harbor in Rowland Heights served up the best dim sum we’ve had since San Francisco. We also ate at a funky little 40 year old sushi joint in the Hacienda Heights ghetto, Akasaka.

We haven’t had sushi in over a year. We just have a thing about eating sushi anywhere other than the coast. It’s just wrong, and to us, the freshest sushi you can get is definitely worth the wait.

The plan is to leave here on Sunday, after the rains end. We’ll head straight for Slab City, where we a warm desert is waiting for us, with dark night skies and solitude.

Angelenos are getting all worked up over the rain that’s been falling on Southern California. Yesterday, a tornado warning was announced, and minutes later a small “tornadic-like” formation touched down and blew over a car. The hills are sliding and freeways are a mess. Parents are keeping their kids home from school.

Even though this kind of weather action is mild in comparison to our old stomping grounds of rainy, wet Humboldt County, we’re still glad to be staying in a stick house while riding this episode out.

The Los Angeles area hasn’t seen rain since Christmas. I was hoping we wouldn’t see any bad weather this winter, but it is January after all. When the rain started falling, I had to dig our rain jackets out of storage in the RV. Even funnel clouds and heavy rain won’t stop us from going outside every day. That’s because Wyatt Ray just won’t cut us any slack. If our one year-old puppy doesn’t get three walks a day, he will eat the furniture. Morning, noon and night, he begs to go outside for a walk, and we comply. Dogs are great at getting you to break away from work and into the great outdoors.

One morning, as Wyatt led me on a walk during a heavy downpour, my soaking wet clothes were an unpleasant reminder that the Gore-tex water-resistance on my gear is fading away.

Gear lust started whispering in my ear again; I want . . . I want . . . I want. . .

Time to start looking for something else, like maybe a new Berghaus jacket?

One year ago today, we made the hardest call of our lives.

In the most spectacular place on earth, Yellowstone National Park, we woke up that morning and understood that it was Jerry’s time to leave us.

The heartache of saying goodbye to our spiritual leader is still fresh in our hearts. Just thinking about it makes me cry.

Until that day, I never realized how the death of an animal companion could bring a person to their knees with pure grief.

Today, as I look over at ten month old Wyatt, a bundle of fur curled up in front of the fireplace, I know that we are setting ourselves up for another eventual heartbreak.

Their terribly short lives are the price we pay for having Dog as our Co-Pilot.

We posted this rememberance of Jerry on our Tripawds site today.

How can a new dog ever live up to the expectations set by your Forever Dog? Your one true dog who was so nearly perfect, so obedient, so smart, and so loving?

Well, he can’t. And you shouldn’t expect him to either. Because every pup is his own dog, and has new, different, and important lessons to each you.

And so, we are back at our place in Colorado, trying to get into some kind of routine and regular training schedule with our new Tripawd hero, Wyatt Ray. Wyatt is definitely teaching us different lessons than Jerry did. Mostly about patience, and dedication to the positive role that structure plays in life.

Considering the rough start he had in life, he’s doing pretty well. We know Jerry’s watching out for him (and whispering in his gigantic ears, telling him to stop chewing up our house).

Here’s a quick video Jim made for our Tripawds site, that shows us in our backyard and along the roads where we live, with Wyatt, Tripawd extraordinaire.

Ah, the joys of puppyhood.

We left our new home to go work at Vickers Ranch again, but just for hay season. Well, let me clarify: Jim came here to go buck hay after I volunteered him. I came to help out wherever I’m needed. The hay season went off without a hitch, and the guys finished in record time, just before the rain started this weekend.

We’ll probably hang out here for just another few days, then return to our new digs. There’s a certain puppy who needs some serious training that he can’t get iright now, with so much activity and animals of every sort running around making him crazy.

Life never seems to go exactly as planned, but sometimes the universe makes things happen in a good way that you’d never expect them to.

We are so happy to announce the arrival of Jerry’s Leg-a-cy, and our new Tripawds spokesdog, Wyatt Ray Dawg.

Jerry, we know you would have a great time with this boy. He’s super hard headed and really smart like you! And while no other dog can ever replace your beautiful self, we know how much you want us to always love life to the fullest. Wyatt is showing us once again what that means.

Here’s how Wyatt came into our lives . . .

Last Fall as we left Colorado and headed to the Tetons and Yellowstone for Jerry’s final road trip adventure, we stopped in Fort Collins for lunch. A friend from Portland told us it was a cool place to live, and I thought that if a Portlander paid a compliment to the city, it must be something special.

And it is. Located north of Denver in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, this city’s vibrant downtown, thriving business community, bikeability, excellent university and great breweries immediately pulled us in, and has been calling us back ever since.

Nine months later, we have returned to scout the nearby mountains for Jerry’s land.

When we fell under the spell of this “Best Places” city, I didn’t know it at the time, but my long lost cousin, Robert (aka “Son”) Chavez lives here. He found me on FaceBook and we started communicating again for the first time since we were kids.

Our families have such a long history that even though we aren’t blood relatives, we still call each other “cousins.” Our Dads have known each other since the 1950s, and our families shared a lot of good times and camping trips while growing up. As life went on and we got older, our Dads still remained close, but the rest of us eight kids scattered about to live our lives.

When I found out that Son and his partner Steven, are Fort Collins locals, I was thrilled. When I learned that Steven’s sister and brother in law, Mike and Marie, are well-established real estate agents here, I was ecstatic. Then, I learned that one of my dearest friends, Renee, is moving here from California, and I’ve been giddy ever since! We are determined to find our mountain property somewhere within 1 hour of the city.

What a find. We have family and friends here, and we love the fact that we can get lost in the Rockies yet still so close to such an aweseome town. It’s everything we’ve been looking for.

After two years of searching, it really feels like our destiny is written here. Now, if we could only find that property . . .

Texas is being good to us, and we love it here. Never in a million years did we think we would say this. As native West Coasters, we fell for the popular snotty stereotype about the Lone Star State: that it’s flat, boring, full of rednecks and the only redeeming thing about it is Austin.

Now that we’ve been to the Great State two times in the last year, we just want to say; We were wrong. Sorry Texas!

The most peaceful, relaxing drives we’ve had in the last two years have been along the back roads of West Texas. The land here is as varied and beautiful as anything we’ve seen in our travels. Nowhere else in the United States can you drive through such wide open spaces and see vistas that go on for miles, without a single inhabitant except for a herd of cows. Tall rock formations line the horizon against a deep blue sky, and even if you’ve seen “No Country for Old Men,” Hollywood still can’t come close to replicating this kind of beauty. One visit to Big Bend National Park, and you’ll see for yourself how stunning this country is:

We haven’t been to a national park since saying goodbye to Jerry in Yellowstone. Coming here felt somewhat like a betrayal to our baby, since the last time we set out to do the tourist thing was with him.

But I knew if we didn’t go to Big Bend now, years might go by before we had the opportunity to go again. Since it was “only” 240 miles out of the way from our next destination, the Texas Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Alpine, and diesel is hella cheap in Texas, we went for it.

Arriving at the park and hitting the trails without him didn’t seem right at first. But after a day of sweating in the blazing sun, and getting stabbed by cacti on the trail, I realized that Jerry probably would’ve hated this kind of terrain, which helped my pangs of guilt to subside.

One of the great things about meeting people online is you tend to immediately share something in common. Friendships are started based on a shared interest, whether it’s dogs, RVing, or whatever.

We met Joel and Ross online in 2006, when Jerry was diagnosed with cancer. Their Great Dane Moose was on the same path, and throughout the next two years, we became friends. Joel and Ross sounded like such nice people, and gave us an open invitation to stop by and visit them in Paso Robles, near San Luis Obispo, CA. “Be careful what you ask for,” we warned them, and showed up after leaving L.A.

What a fun surprise it was to learn we had other things in common besides our heroic dogs. Joel and Ross live on five rural acres, in a solar-powered house, and even drive an electric car. They have many animals, and a great little garden too. Their compound resembles what Jim and I envision for ourselves someday. Here’s a clip of Joel giving a tour of his gopher-proof greenhouse: