Ann's Animals

I used to refer to Ann (behind her back) as "my fierce little wife", since she was not to be trifled with.  But one thing that she has taught me is how to be more compassionate and gentle with animals.  When we were dating, I was working across the country from her, at Allegheny Portage National Historic Park.  She sent me a picture of her in the kitchen, bending down to give food to her (then) animal companions, Mather the black cat and Perrier the crazy cat, and Elliott the comfort dog. You could see on her face, directed downwards towards these little beings, how much she loved them.  The photo was titled whimsically, something like "feeding time at the barn".  I loved it.

Later we went backpacking in the Leidy Peak area of the Uintas with her dog Elliott.  At one point, Ann put Elliott on a "sit-stay" by my side, and then proceeded to walk around to the other side of Lakeshore Basin Lake to do some fishing.  Eventually Ann called across the lake to Elliott to "Come!", and the little dog ran all around the lake to her.  As I watched Ann bend down to greet Elliott, I remember thinking what great friends they were, and how hard it would be for Ann when Elliott inevitably had to part from her.

Ann was active in UROMP, a Vernal group composed of what I have long called "the dog people."  Those people will be concerned that Ann's beloved animals continue to be taken care of, so I will describe what arrangements have been made.  Cedar is an Aussie shepherd who worshipped Ann.  I have never witnessed such a deep bond between an animal and a human;  it was awe-inspiring.  Cedar is Kathy Paulin's dog now (although in a deeper and unbearably tragic sense, he will always be Ann's dog.)  Kathy loves Cedar, and she is equally devoted to him and to her other dogs that Cedar can bully and socialize with.  And Cedar loves Kathy, going wild whenever she would show up, barking and bouncing up and down. Kathy will continue to take Cedar on "dog walks" in the desert outside of Vernal, and will give him very good care.  This is a double-edged sword for Kathy, because it is one of the last things she can do for Ann, yet he will be a constant reminder of her absence.  If Cedar had stayed with me, he would be eternally watching our front door, waiting for his goddess to show up.  I don't know how often he will be remembering Ann, or how confused he may be, but this is the best that can be contrived for him. If you Vernal "dog people" wish to feel closer to our beloved Ann, you might consider asking Kathy if you can go on a walk with her and Cedar, and her dogs Skolai and Kelly. 

Stikine is a different story.  She is named after the hero of one of Ann's favorite  books, "Stickeen" by John Muir (there is a nice version by Heyday Books, Berkley, ISBN  0-930588-48-7).  It is the true story of Muir's relationship with an Alaskan mutt, and how the dog Stickeen "humanized" Muir.  It is well worth reading, very short, and it may help you feel closer to Ann.  Anyway, after a crisis involving a crevasse, Muir and Stickeen greet each other after a perilous crossing. Muir writes,

"I have known many dogs, and many a story I could tell of their wisdom and devotion; but to none do I owe so much as to Stickeen...Our storm battle for life brought him to  light, and through him as through a window I have ever since been looking with deeper sympathy into all my fellow mortals." 

Which is a perfect description of Ann's approach to animals.  Stikine (named after a glacier, a river, and an Indian nation of British Columbia) is blind and deaf, and will stay with me, where she knows the terrain like a little Helen Keller.  She is a great comfort dog, and I try to give her affection and attention equal to what Ann would have.  She was a little prepared for this by the fact that Ann spent 5 days a week away from Stikine while working at Colorado National Monument.  I think she will suffer Ann's loss much less than Cedar, and may only be vaguely and intermittently aware of an absence in her life. 

The three cats, of course, are a different story.  Yakutat, the black cat, is approaching me more often and I am attempting to build a closer relationship with her.  Chitna (Ann had this Alaskan motif thing going with animal names;  they all are taken from cities and species of Alaska) is a more complicated story.  She is standoffish mostly, but I will try to merit her trust.  Both of these cats Ann rescued from certain death by capturing them as they lingered day by day, abandoned as kittens on the road to the dinosaur quarry. 

The third cat, Kodiak, (otherwise known informally as "the little b_______d") is "my" cat.  He came to me outside our front door as a kitten, apparently (according to  our vet Sheila) having been brutally thrown out a car window. He is very much a "people cat", and is very attentive, for which I am immensely grateful.

So, the Elder family has lost it's central figure, but now consists of me, my brother Mark (who by some miracle of God is working in Vernal and was living with me when this happened), Stikine, Chitna, Yakutat, Kodiak, and two fish who will also be attended to.  I have full visitation rights with Cedar, and will drop in on him as often as I can.  I hope that this comforts those of you who may have been worrying about them.

I will seek advice from Kathy and other dog people (you know who you are) on how to proceed with vet care, etc.