Boo-eulogy

Got back from vacation to hear some depressing news. My good friends (Jamie, Christine, and Tom) dog, Kuma, got bit by a baby rattlesnake and died.

Quite shocking news. I really respected the Kuma (a.k.a. Da Boo, Powder Porpoise, The Golden fleece, Fleet Footed Chaser of All Things Moving).

Here are some pics to keep her memory alive.

On one trip the west desert, James and I stumbled across the strangest of granite outcropping.

Kuma loved jumping up on them and posing for the camera.

If you were quick enough, you sometimes could get your hands around her before she was running off after this and that.

Does this rock remind you of something? Perhaps a ghost reincarnate of Boo-boo?
Kuma did have the rare down time. Here, at night, guarding one of her most prized possessions....THE BALL.

If you picked up the ball, or said the magic word,"Walk?" Then you had her full attention.


Alexi was fascinated with Boo. Probably because Boo had no strong interest in Alexi. "I mean, come on now, the kid doesnt throw the ball, does he? I mean he is perhaps a food dribbler, but really now, where's my ball thrower?"
If it wasn't throwing the ball then the other huge past time was perfecting her nom du Piste, The Powder Porpoise. Here we have her briefly captured by her main daddy, James (a.k.a. Foot Hill).

She went far and wide with us. Here is another poser shot down in the San Juan's with Petra and Nate.
But poser shots aside, what it was all about was getting turns and ooh, did she get excited as the skins were removed and the ski route was being contemplated.
But first there was that pesky nuisance of digging the snow stability test pit. "Come on man, the pow pow is a settling, man. Lets GO!"

Then it was off, downslope like a rabid powder fiend (photo credits to James, but it is such a good one!)
It was nearly impossible to ski fast enough to keep her off your tails. So at every freshie shot, it was not always a treat to be the first skier down slope. She would get so tight on your tails that sometimes you got tangled up. If conditions were pow pow, which required safety of one skier on hill at time, then, when she took you down, you were digging your self out of the powder in the midst of wet sloppy kisses.

If conditions were more stable, then she would tangle with who ever was in lead. Once she trip up the lead, a new leader would go flying by. "Arf!" and she was off after that one to pounce on their ski tails. I recall more that a few times when more than one was down because of the Boo.

At the bottom she would get really exited to see the next skier coming down. Jumping and prancing, with an occasional "Whine" or an "Arf!," she would impatiently wait the arrival of the next skier.


It was good day of skiing when she fell in behind on the skin track. Then you knew the days was nearing its end.

But more often than not, she was out in front, waiting for everyone to catch up.