Basil’s gift & saving LeDoux // our rescue story

Hand holding a dog paw.
Love.

I lost my heart when Basil walked on without us. I feel that since that time i have barely been holding on, struggling to care or breathe or live. It was gut-wrenching. I would always enjoy my favourite things a little less, i’d always feel i could’ve have done better by him. Been more patient, less this that and every other god damn thing under the sun. “Forgive me forgive me,” i’d scream in the shower, on the floor by the bed with my head in his blanket. I was going through hell. Real hell. The kind of hell you don’t make it back from, and i’ll never be the same because that love cannot be replaced. It wont be. Basil, Jack and i were a small force. We fought, we struggled but we had a love like no other. He will always be my sweet velvet cherub and the dog who saved me, stayed with me and kept me going. Because that was who he was. He protected me even though he was small, he was mighty. I will never let him go, and im not scared of dying because he’ll be waiting. As you can tell — i am still very much in the first phase of grief and i believe i shall stay here forever.
-HOWEVER-
Basil was with us yesterday and Basil had a gift.

Lunch at Sonic. Number 8. Unsweet ice, a large water and a lemon slush.

I was awake all night. Jack was snoring like a son of a bitch and my pills for insomnia barely touch the problem some nights, but i dont dare to take two incase i don’t wake up. Thats the anxiety talking whereas the depression would try to persuade me to take them all. I pulled my ass into the living room and re-arranged all the western blankets and fluffy pillows to make a den to sleep in. However i ended up just playing Hogwarts mystery on my phone whilst i watched forensic files. Thats usually how the nights tend to blow over for me. The next morning , after i caught an hours sleep, i got up to make breakfast. The coffee started dripping whilst the bacon danced in the pan. I buttered the toast with some difficulty. Fuck un-spreadable supposedly spreadable butter. Jesus. After my toast incident i made sure Jack was up. We had to be in Cheyenne by 10.30am.

Crotch shot.

I’d been looking at petfinder for about a year or more; since before we left New England. I felt guilty for looking, but i had to have some hope for something. Dogs came and went. I don’t know exactly what i was looking for. I didn’t want another beagle because it would feel like i was trying to fill a Basil shaped hole with a beagle. So i searched for any hound; plott, coon, black & tan, bluetick or fox. As long as it was a hound it would be ok. After discussing the idea with my doctor and my counsellor they both believed a dog would help me with my depression. I was honest with them, and they obviously realise my problems wont disappear but it can be helped. Im on a lot of medication these days and my farts smell like the devil smoke shit & acid in the same stogie. Jack and i were already discussing how an ESA could help me, so when both medical professionals confirmed it would be a huge help. I really started to look, but i still didn’t know what i was looking for. I wanted a hound but as soon as i applied either the descriptions lied, or the foster parents decided to keep the dog. Through my searches Jack had pointed at one dog.

“He’s cute, what about him?”
“You like him?”
“Yeah, don’t you?”
“I do, i just was’t expecting  you to like him too.”


The truth was that i had come back to this dogs profile on petfinder maybe a hundred times, i thought he had such a lovely face and i adored his name. I had planned on more of a hound dog, because i wanted something with a similar personality to a beagle. However i really was open to almost anything. All i knew was that i wanted a big dog.
And i got big dog named LeDoux.
LeDoux means “the sweet one” in French.
After Jack and i discussed it i went ahead and put in an application. It couldn’t hurt and if it didn’t work out at least i could cross him off my list so to speak. I was prepared at the prospect of having to meet several before i met the one. I communicated back and forth with Janet from Yola & Boogy Fund in Wyoming Cheyenne. And as i said before — we had to be in Cheyenne at 10.30am to meet LeDoux.

                                

I didn’t get any pictures of me during the first meeting, these are the pictures taken by Janet as she was so happy and surprised with how LeDoux acted with us. He loved us straight away. It was so amazing. I still haven’t stopped smiling. I wish i’d known LeDoux & Janet would be standing in the field together waiting for us to drive up, because i would’ve filmed seeing him for the first time and his reaction to us. Having said that i’m also glad that i didn’t. It was a special moment that Jack and i share – thats more important. Anyway there he was, this big red dog and he was so excited to see us. He ran right up to us and within a few minutes Jack had started teaching him to play fetch. It was truly meant to be. He needed some training and to learn a few things, but he’s very eager to please. Already today he’s starting to figure out Shake, Stay and Down. All very slow but often. This weekend we’re mostly letting him relax and take his time and find his place in our routine, so far so good.  He’s one year and three months old. A hound, boxer & pit bull mix.
He’s perfect.

Man and a rescue dog. Ready to get in the car and go home.
Ready to go home.

Janet took LeDoux back with her while we ran some errands. We picked up new toys, training treats, natural shampoo and a nice big comfy bed for his crate (we leave the gate off in hopes he’ll learn that it’s his safe place to sleep, but he get in and out if he wants to). We weren’t planning on bringing him home yesterday even if we did like him — we planned to discuss it for a week and see what we thought. But that changed. Guess who wanted to take him home immediately. Moi. Jack didn’t take much persuading either. Ha.
On our way back to take him home we grabbed sonic for lunch, we’d already grazed through our healthy picnic that i’d packed for the day, and just like that LeDoux was ours. As you saw he stuck his head out of the window and had so much to see. It felt like he knew we were his and that we were coming to get him. It was magic, simple and better than i could have hoped. I asked Basil to help me find someone that needed a home and that would be good for us. And as always the little guy answered. Thanks Buddy. Sounds like hooey but i choose to believe it, the only kind of faith i had is in that dog, Jack and now LeDoux.
 

About to get in the car and head towards Laramie!

Janet actually gave us the leash, blue harness and the lovely turquoise dog collar. She was a very nice person, clearly she loves what she does and every animal she helps.

Dog with his head out of car window enjoying the sun.
Sunshine & car rides.
Dog sleeping in car.
Making himself at home in the car on Happy Jack Road.
Hand holding polaroid of dog.
LeDoux on his first trip to Vedauwoo.
man walking dog
First national park adventure.

Between Cheyenne and Laramie is our favourite park Vedauwoo, we decided to take a short walk with LeDoux to see how he liked it and i think he rather enjoyed it. The hound in him certainly showed with him following tracks and sniffing about. I took pictures and polaroids. I really was on cloud nine. Nothing settles a troubled soul like taking a walk with a dog. Believe me. The best antidepressant. He’s also a fantastic car dog. Bonus!

Happy man & happy dog.
LeDoux with Jackdad in Vedauwoo.

When we arrived home he settled right in instantly. He walked around with us, ran around the yard and kept coming back for hugs. When we came inside and he had his food — instantly on the couch where he stayed till bedtime.

Happy dog.
Happy to be home.
A beautiful dog.
Handsome fella.

We don’t know a whole lot about LeDoux but apparently he was a stray as a puppy and got hit by a car, he didn’t receive any medical attention on his back foot so it grew together leaving a big lump. It doesn’t bother him at all aside from an occasional limp. Eventually he ended up in an animal shelter in Casper when Janet picked him up. She cared for him, took him to the vet and got his shots and whatever else. He’s a very happy and healthy boy. We’re surprised how sweet and gentle he is, doesn’t hold a single grudge or worry about a damn thing.
He’s just our happy LeDoux.

Dog.
Relaxing in the sunny afternoon and showing him around the neighbourhood. (Please note his beautiful dotted tail on the far right.)

Over time as he figures everything out in his own time he’ll be my ESA companion. From now on its easy living for this boy, lots of love and adventures.

Dog loving his new year.
LeDoux Flynn.

And thats the story thus far. We welcomed him to our very small family and it was meant to be.

LeDoux was adopted from the Yola & Boogy Pet Fund. 

a beautiful night sky

Hello everyone! Its 6.26pm Saturday night and its black as a cave drop outside already. Winter is definitely here.
It’s been a lazy day just puttering around the apartment sorting through clothes, books etc. I really want to downsize the things I have. One reason is to make moving so much simpler and two because I just hating having so much random “stuff.” Maybe its since I’ve moved across the world and I realize what material things matter and which don’t, on the other hand it might the hole Danish thing of hating clutter. Which I do. With a passion.
Anyway as I was tucking into some old pizza this afternoon I saw these orange sun lined clouds flying across the sky, and I ran out to the balcony to watch them go. The cold wind smacked me in the face like an angry ex-boyfriend.
I gave Jack my “I MUST PHOTOGRAPH THAT” look, pulled on my jeans, vintage sweater and some snow boots — Jack pulled on clothes and flip flops. Resulting in him almost losing all his toes, because its cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey.
And so we chased the sun down as we burned daylight.
He’s so lovely to let me follow my soul wherever it takes me, and knowing that he’ll always be right there next to me.
He’s made of diamonds that one.

Recently everything has been changing, but finally things seem to be finding their way. I work a job I enjoy with nice people, and it’ll do for now, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I need more. I want to shoe horses. I want to be in the crows nest with the sails beneath me full as a fat baby at breakfast. I want to draw western scapes filled with bluebonnets and longhorns. I want to ride. To have a farm. I want to photograph all the hours of my day away. I want to act on the stages I built with my bare hands. I want to make people laugh and forget how terrible the world can seem.
I’m not made like everyone else. I’m made of earth, stones and sea water all held within a fox hide. I live in the land of dreams and I’ll chase them. So for now i’m glad things have settled, and that I have time to process things that need processing, but I can’t wait to get back to where I feel I need to be — Texas. The sooner the better. It’s the last place I felt truly inspired and apart of something. I can always grasp at nature, but when you live somewhere that doesn’t call to you — there’s only one thing to do and that’s get up and go to where they wind blows you.  So here’s hoping next year that we’re out of New England.
It’s time to start living. I wear my boots and my Stetson with pride. I need to feel that old dust under my feet as my heel growls on the gravel. I want to film the Texas sunrise and watch the deer running.


This evening was such a perfect moment. Watching the clouds roll by, the dark looming in and being with my best friend laughing; talking about nothing.
Just what I needed.
How did you spend your Saturday night?

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pulling a Captain Call

“He didn’t tell him that even when life seemed easy, it kept on getting harder.”

“Well you could always pull a Captain Call,” – Matt LeBlanc, my maid of honor and our best friend said when we told him how upset we were that Basil died in New England.
A place that isn’t home to any of us. As always, that man is a gift to us and I don’t think he realizes it.
I’ve never thought about where I’ll die, because it never mattered to me whether I lived or not. I figure when I die my bones will be where they lay. I’ll be dust to the wind and no one will mourn because they’ll know how free I am. However, with Basil it always mattered. If I could change one thing I would have walked Basil back to Texas, even if it meant walking right through my shoes. Every stone making me wince but my bloody feet would have carried us home no matter what.

“It’s like I told you last night son. The earth is mostly just a boneyard. But pretty in the sunlight, he added,”
Augustus McCrae.

Everything went so fast and suddenly. Just a month ago he was still playing, running and being the beagle he always has been. He never stopped wanting to play, but by the end he just couldn’t. I wanted so desperately for him to feel the warmth of the Texas sunset on his face again, to roll around in the hottest and most dangerous grass of America again — where we all felt safe. After all. Basil was a Texas boy just like Jack. I do wonder if bringing him home in time would have changed anything, but realistically his legs would still have begun to drag, so I don’t know that it could’ve helped — but we all loved Texas. So it just might have.

“I’m glad I’ve been wrong enough to keep in practice. . . You can’t avoid it, you’ve got to learn to handle it. If you only come face to face with your own mistakes once or twice in your life it’s bound to be extra painful. I face mine every day–that way they ain’t usually much worse than a dry shave.”
Augustus McCrae.

Those who know me intimately know that I am to be cremated with my favorite book, Lonesome Dove. Jack bought Lonesome Dove for me from goodwill telling me “its a classic and you have to read it.” I remember the day we bought it. We’d had double Daves pizza with bacon and pepperoni, rummaged around goodwill and then ended up in Hobby lobby as we often do.
He didn’t tell me it would change my life. That it would shake every bone in my body and be the worst book hang over I have ever experienced in my entire life.
It took me a while to get around to reading it, because my reading list is from here to everywhere; but I started reading it a few months before we made our big move up north, I read it along the way and I finished it in our first months in our new place.  Six months it took me. We were making as big a trip as they were in the book. It is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. Just like Gus — Basil’s legs were ultimately the death of him. I didn’t realize that our ending would be somewhat the same, but it fits that Basil was our Gus McCrae. Because of the two I am definitely Woodrow.
Basil was a wonderful reminder that things can be good and life is precious we just have to realize it. Things aren’t always as bad as they seem.

“It ain’t dying I’m talking about, it’s living. I doubt it matters where you die, but it matters where you live.” Spoken by Augustus McCrae. 

A memory that I cherish, that I have secretly treasured all these years is from when we lived in bum fuck Egypt Texas, in the little red brick house with snakes in the piping… where frogs in the yard were the size of a finger nail. The army of coyotes that we lived with sang us to sleep every night and where Basil got addicted to meth.

“The stars in Texas could have been taken from Van Gogh’s Starry night. They shine like crystals freckled across a deep velvet sky and are laced in a fluff of cloud. They bring the coyotes to song and lullaby bluejays to sleep. Crickets hum and tweak somewhere in the brush. When I looked up I was surrounded by a circle of what seemed the worlds tallest trees. The moon danced delicately around; being kissed by stars as it swung by. How small I was here. I was so far from anything familiar. Yet, I think I found it. “It.” What many never find in a lifetime, I found by the time I was 20.
I found me, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t find me in Texas.

So here I stand staring at the sky holding his hand: stars rolling on and time passing. Mosquitoes buzzing and bleeding us dry. Texas taught me that freedom does exist you just have to find it: whether it’s riding in the dusty brush or sitting at the bar with two southern gentlemen talking about absolutely nothing. Jack taught me how to find happiness in the darkest corners, how to fight for love and how to make tacos. Now I’m living in a wild and dangerous country, and everything is trying to eat me alive. Its true, Texas made a woman out of me and I wouldn’t change a thing.” 

This was taken from a previous piece I wrote about moving to Texas, and this is the memory that I have been visiting. It wounds me but its a place that I can escape to because it was a moment where there was peace, and we had everything ahead of us. We were three. Though Basil is not mentioned, he is in there. You just have to look. In every word. Every breath. Every single letter — he’s in there somewhere. As much apart of the words as the stars above us or the air we breathed. He was at our feet watching the stars just as we were. Watching us. Knowing probably that one day we’d be ok when he wasn’t around. That little comfort didn’t know how big he was. Truly. That boy could carry the world on his shoulders. He is the tank you wanna ride into war, because he will carry you out. Every time. And he’ll never complain. But he’ll be there. Taking every bullet and every piece of shrapnel.

So as our final thank you to you Basil, we’ll carry you home to Texas. Just as Woodrow Call carried Gus McCrea. We made a promise, and though others may find it stupid or too much for “just a dog”, it was a promise made in utter love. I would do it for Jack and I would do it for you. We’ll take you back to where the stars are so big you could pick them. Where we all were so happy, even through our growing pains. Where we were all so young, so stupid and ready to get out and live. That’s where we’ll all go — and we’ll go together. Like always.

How stupid we were to want to get out and live, when we were already dreaming.

“Yesterday’s gone on down the river and you can’t get it back.”
Augustus McCrae.

Live through it,” Call said. “That’s all we can do.”

trolls across the pond

Ever since i was a child i was frightened of wandering into the woods alone.
There were all kinds of darknesses between the gnarled tree trunks, and the tricksters hiding under a blanket of moss that covered the forest bed. I always had the feeling that i was a little girl in a H.C Andersen fairytale. The gloom of his depresses and the depth of his fantastical visions ever present in the Danish countryside that i grew up in. Life had lessons for me even then, and the innocence was always laced in a dim light of frightening events.


All my life i’ve believed in the legends of norse mythology.
Trolls eating rocks and all the bad little children. Having a house nisse to keep your home safe and Thor hammering mjölnir into the sky when he’s angry.


After all these years im glad those childish beliefs and thoughts have never left me. Still now, as i wander through the thicket of a forest and climb the crumpled stones — i think of those mountain kings, the big nosed trolls and the bad witches. I wonder what they’re doing and if they are with me on turtle island — or if they keep to the nordic scapes alone.
I wonder if i ran into a troll if he would speak in tongues.


In truth i contemplate if i am a viking alone on a vast continent of settlers, and thats all there is to it. I have no kinship and no ancestors here, but i believe that thor still pisses through the clouds when hes drunk — and that odin still watches over me when times are tough.


I am so thankful for my heritage, my history and where i come from.
An old country kid from danish farm country, blood of the vikings and ravens as my guardian angels.
This blog post is nothing special — just random ramblings to clear my mind.

Happy Thursday!