Meet Yoyo. An old ranch dog, one of many we have lost, mainly to old age, over the years. A Border Collie cross, a faithful, much loved, companion until last year. But this is actually a story of many dogs my husband and I will long remember. It began with Liza Jane, affectionately nic-named Beanso, back in 2000. She was born on Goundhog Day, and since yesterday Punxsutawney Pete saw his shadow again (it's been a long winter out east) it made me think of Liza. She was a beautifully grand dog, a Great Shepnard (Great Dane/ German shepherd/St. Bernard) topping 125 lbs and quite the character who shaped our lives for the next 11 years. We bought tons of kibble, dog beds, furniture, vehicles, even a home, all to accommodate her needs. Worth every cent, too. 

Then there were the Border Collies. We bought a perfect purebred female pup from dear rancher friends and named her Keiki, child in Hawaiian. She was all about herding livestock and passed this trait on to several generations of astonishing herding dogs we raised. Sold a few to enthusiasts as well. A breeder said Keiki was "on the bit," meaning she was high strung in horseman lingo, a gross understatement.

Out of her we owned and loved Tux, Viking, Dice, Salvahe, Olaf, Ned and others who went to far flung corners of the country.  This encompassed decades spent on ranches from Wyoming to Arizona, California to Missouri. Chapters with many adventures indeed. Always with some sort of livestock they loved to be in control of, when allowed. 

I've made artwork of most of them, and haven't mentioned them all such as the Aussies, Raisin and Dan'l. They were very good with the livestock as well, and had a bent toward being watchdogs, something I appreciated given the remote locations we inhabited. 

It has been fun to capture their likenesses for perpetuity in artwork, to try and pin their personality types in oil paint. Remembering the puppy times, the hardships of always having dogs, the incredible payoffs and folks who considered us strange for our pack of canines. Each one had a job, quirks, and a nic-name. Vike was Bob Barker. Raisin was Annabelle Lee, Yoyo was originally Jojo, but we resorted to the Spanish pronunciation a sheep herder insisted on calling him. Ned was Nedley Darling, and Salvahe (wild) was originally Gypsy, but went wild on the Red Desert for a month until humanely trapped, resuming loyal family member status.  Not kids, but pretty darn good fur babies, I gotta say. 

Nowadays we have Texas Blue Heeler rescue, Corrie Borealis, and our Malonois X, Wilhelmina (Meanie). Never a dull moment, they keep us on our toes and are great company. Oh, yeah, they are happy to herd too.   

If you've had pets, especially dogs, you know. What a gift. Sometimes challenging. They'll make you laugh, curse, and cry. But in the end, they are a huge part of the sweet milestones life is made up of.  Like Groundhog Day for us. Because of Beanso, we don't much care if the rodent sees his shadow or not. But never a year goes by when we don't entertain the happy memories of being owned by a fabulous character who never dies in our hearts, along with the other pack members we have shared our years with. Wags to your good health.