We had a sad week. My friend Smokey hurt his leg real bad. Mom said he was so old he could not get well and she did not want hm to hurt anymore. So the doctor came over and gave him a shot. He left us and his pain behind. Evey one cried, even me. Then I licked Mom's face.
Mom said Smokey was 15. I guess that pretty old but I think Mom is older than that. Maybe 16 or 17.
Smokey told me he was abused and abandoned. He said it was allot worse than getting a spanking for playing with the chickens. He got hurt real bad and was afraid of people for a while even after Mom found him. He told me he didn't have any food, not even breakfast.
He got to go and travel with Mom. They went to art shows and had lots of good snacks. He was the guard dog at night, but during the day he did tricks. At one show they had a contest for best dog trick and he won. Smokey said he laughed because all the other dogs were little poodles and stuff and he was the only one-eyed dog there. Mom was proud of him.
He worked as a nursing home pet therapy dog for a long time too. He said he had to be very good all the time, but liked the way the people all smiled at him.
Smokey went on long trips in the woods. He carried a backpack with his food and some of Mom's. They would go in the mountains and get to swim everyday.
Smokey told me I need to be a good boy and listen to Mom. So I'm trying. Mom is really sad and so am I.
Terra said we would plant flowers on top of his grave in the spring. I think he would like that.
I live on a small farm nestled in the Ozark Mountains in Arkansas.
I have a deep passion for the beauty of the earth which surrounds me and a spiritual kinship for the animals who share the mountains with me.
My paintings are in private corporate and museum collections around the country and around the world.