It started with a loud thunk. We were sitting at the table having our first cup of coffee when a hummingbird flew into the window. He hit hard. I asked Rick if he had flown away and he said “I don’t think so.” I went outside to see if I could find him. He was lying the in the tall grass with his neck at an odd angle but his little eyes were blinking. I carefully scooped him up in my hands and held him. He flicked his wings a few times, then settled back down into my hands. He was watching me, but his long tongue was still sticking out of his beak which I didn’t think was a very good sign.

I sat down on the stairs to the porch and just held him which I’ve done before when a bird has flown into the window and is too stunned to fly. I asked Rick to come out and take a look at him. He took these photos for me.

I held him for about ten minutes and decided he wasn’t looking all that good. I placed him gently on the porch rail and came back inside.

A few minutes went by and when I checked he was still there. When Rick checked about ten minutes after I had come back inside, he was gone! He had recovered enough to fly off! A successful rescue. I would like to think that he is one of the birds now visiting our feeder.

After that exciting start to our day we decided to take the dogs and walk down to Egger’s Pond which is about a mile away. Here are some photos from our walk.

When we got back we moved wood from our stockpile by the shed to indoors on the porch and filled the wood racks to the brim.

We got all of that accomplished before 11:00 a.m. I’d say that all that activity has earned us the right to kick back this afternoon and do not much of anything. Wouldn’t you agree?

Hah! Just now as I was busily typing up this entry sitting at the table by the window, a deer walked right by!

We finally managed to get our internet connection working last night. I am really sitting in our cabin writing to you rather than sitting on the hilltop. Magic.

In the crisp morning air all that can be heard is the whizzing, whirring sound of the hummingbirds as they go back and forth between our two feeders, the peewee is screeching its monotonous song, and the light babble of Bart’s Creek, still flowing with spring run off water. It’s very peaceful here. It’s taken some time but I think we are finally on cabin time. Time that passes slowly and sweetly, without you even noticing. It’s hard to explain.

We are “off the grid” here, meaning we have no one providing us with services. We make our own electricity, relying on the sun to spill its power onto our solar panels and down into the batteries, so we have to be mindful of our usage. We have a wind generator too, but we took it down when we moved to New Jersey. The wind is downright wicked up here and would have ruined it if we had left it up unattended. We do have a large propane tank and our refrigerator, stove and furnace are powered by propane. We have a well with deliciously cold water. Yes, we have running water and all the comforts that go along with it. Rustic but comfortable.

The dogs are certainly enjoying themselves. We take plenty of long walks.

For now I will leave you with the sunset from the other night. More coming soon.

Milli awaiting her litter in the whelping box (eBay is helping)

Daisy and Bode 3 weeks old (Simba in background)

Daisy and Bode 3 weeks old (Simba in background)

Daisy and Bode 3 weeks old (Simba in background)

Dad Sailor gives Daisy a lick while cuddling on Simba

That’s a good question. Just how do you say good-bye to a loyal, trustworthy friend? Sailor was a good dog; a wonderful companion. Beautiful. Intelligent. Sweet and loving. The last of my true kids from my favorite dog of all time, Indy. He was a lot like his father before him.

We always thought that of all the dogs, Sailor would be the one most likely to live into his older years. He was so energetic and healthy. Not one health problem ever marred his short life. He fought bravely, but that insidious disease proved too much for him. He kept smiling right up until the end.

Over the past three weeks he was on a roller-coaster of a ride. He went so low a few times that we were certain he was leaving us. He rallied several times much to our delight, although never coming back up to where he was before. This past week he was basically a hospice care patient. I was at his beck and call. He needed help getting outside and getting up. He was fussy eating, so Dairy Queen vanilla cones were a big hit with him. His eyes would grow big with wonder and anticipation when he realized that it was all for him. How he loved them! The hours of my day were filled with his needs. Now my day seems empty.

(I love this pic because of his smile and because he looks like he’s wearing my hair as a wig!)

I watched him leave us little bit by little bit. I started preparing myself the minute I heard the diagnosis of lymphoma. I had great hopes that the chemo would keep him with us longer than it did. I kept as upbeat and happy around him as I possibly could, and I think I did a good job. I have no regrets there. He had a good life; I just wish it could have been longer.

We were both with him at the end. He passed as peacefully as we could have hoped for. That he did it with us, here at home, instead of the vet’s office was a great comfort to us. We didn’t have to end his life for him, he chose his own way.

So, good-bye dear Sailor. Sailing-man. Skipper. Mr. Prissy Paws. Scupper-gubs. We will miss your sweet, dear face. Let your soul be free to go wherever it was that you needed to go. Promise me you’ll be back to visit.

Just now I went outside. I sat on the wet and very cold deck planking. Thinking. Missing. Reminiscing. Crying. About the life of a dog.

It rained heavily today. As I sat there, I could hear the trees ridding themselves of the excess water that they received today. Almost as if they were sharing my grief and weeping their own tears along with mine.

Sailor left us today at 6:15 p.m., Eastern standard time. He was very brave up until the very end. So was I. I had to be. I was hospice nurse; nurturer; soul mate. Now my role is finished.

I will be posting more about Sailor soon. Right now the wounds are very raw. And so am I. Forgive me.