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Hard Nosed Big Game Hounds

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Luwire Photographic Safaris

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Looking across the Lugenda from one of the camps

Sunday, October 6, 2013

This lifted from Jameson Parker's Blog

First a little from me,

Over the last few years I have had a run on dreams. Some good some not so good. The Bible tells us that there is sometimes potent messages in our dreams sometimes for us sometime for others. I try not to read a lot into mine but I do occasionally bare them in mind as time follows me around. Jameson has been through a lot lately for those of you that haven't kept up with his excellent Blog. A riding accident nearly erased him from us but he fights on and writes on toward recovery. I read this excerpt and it put me in a mood of remembrance of all the dogs I have had in always too brief a partnership. They were friends and I cherish the memories as well as look forward to being reunited someday. It's a heavy feeling that takes more of a toll on me than I care to think about each time one goes before me. A lot of folks don't believe that dogs or any animals for that matter have souls. I for one think that they probably are the only beings that posses a "soul" in every sense of the word. AP

Fistfuls of Balloons! Finis.

September 16th, 2013 27 Comments
I dreamed last night I was young and sound again. In the manner of dreams the location was an indeterminate place that combined the best of Vermont, Virginia, and the southern Sierras. I was roughhousing with a dog who was also a combination of all the dogs I have ever loved, Boxer, Chessie, collie, Bullmastiff, Gordon setter, Pudelpointer, others, running with him, both of us light of foot, happy, healthy, with never-ending energy, chasing each other through the green and golden land, laughing and barking in a young and boundless world.

Steve Bodio used the following quote (or paraphrase) on his website (Querencia—http://stephenbodio.blogspot.com/ —in my Links) in a mention of my accident, apropos horses and riding:

“After fifty, the ground gets harder and harder until it opens to swallow you one final time.”
Tom McGuane

And if I knew the ground was going to swallow me tomorrow, I would open the finest bottle of wine I have in the house; I would eat the finest meal I could help Darleen prepare; I would call all the people who make up my chain link fence, the people I care most about, and try to make them laugh without ever telling them about tomorrow; I would leave light-hearted messages for the people I couldn’t reach; I would sit outside with Darleen and watch the stars fade into sunrise; and I would remind myself all during the night that I have had one hell of a ride, done much, seen much, traveled much, laughed much. It wasn’t enough—it can never be enough for anyone—but by God it was good and it was fun.


Anonymous said...

Only now getting around to you on my blog rounds(I'm also a JParker and Querencia reader/commentor)--but thought I'd share a poignant dream I had not long ago regarding all my many, many past dogs(and I've had so many because for decades now I've kept packs of 10 or 12 at one time!...) This dream has given me, at least, a lot of comfort(and if you've already read this--I posted it on several different blogs--please excuse me for repetitiveness). In the dream I was wandering a cold, dark, Winter forest--it was rather foggy/misty there. Despite the cold, I was quite warm, cloaked with a voluminous blanket of what appeared to be--not cloth--but some sort of concentrated mist itself. It was keeping me warm and secure. I was worried, though, looking for and calling various dogs I've had by name. Significantly, the dogs I was looking for and calling were all dogs that are now deceased. At one point, from the misty blanket cloaked about my shoulders, a head appeared, of the dog that I was calling, his tongue lolling happily, eyes sparkling--he seemed to be saying to me, "here I am! I've been here all along!" I called another, and her head appeared just the same, from the blanket of mist wound about me. Then it was I realized that the mist blanket was made up of the spirits of all my dogs, still with me, still watching over me, there to be conjured up in my memory with but a call of their names. I woke up then with tears in my eyes, but that dream has given me great comfort ever since.....L.B.

Just Another Savage! said...

A beautiful dream, I'll always remember it, thanks for sharing.

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About Me

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I’m a Southern Boy, just 56 last November, I get around here and there, Central America, Africa, Red Bay. I’m a Father, Grandfather, Husband, Artist and general flunky of sorts. Live in a little historic town in an old building I remodeled. Just wanted to hear myself think I guess, talk about the need of simplification, show some art, express an interest or two, brag on my dogs and see where it goes. That’s it!, That’s the deal, Thanks