Dear Little Dogies,
You know, I could report to you every day about the marvelous things I see behind the wheel of my automobile. A few evenings ago, I passed a particularly lovely slope, just after a sweeping horseshoe curve, that I have often seen remarkable sights in- coyote, vultures, some cattle now and then, a shrub, windwolves.
On this particular evening it was being traversed at a complementary angle by a cream colored spotted cow with a beautiful, brand new calf by its side- the lowering sunlight shone on it's new face, and oh! what a sight! So new, and so pale- all soft grey spottings at its head; it was an absolutely sacred cow. This calf could turn you into all kinds of believers, it was that beautiful.
I tried to fix it in my mind forever, so I could return to it and that moment over and over, because it was a moment that had no doubts, had no questions, no anticipations, no desire- it was a moment that was just full, just right.
I have seen so many things like this, and I fight like crazy with my mind and senses to save them, but they often fade a bit, and they gather doubts, and they become lost often permanently. What a terrible, awful pity this is.
PS Are you aware that dogie (as one hears in the cowboy guitar songs) means a 'motherless or neglected calf" according to Webster's?
