This is our Christmas Card for 2023. The subject is our new puppy Goldilocks (Goldie for short). She thought a painting of her in a Santa hat would be "just right."
If I were more computer savvy and not such a cheapskate about paying for software, I'd try to set this up as an actual digital card. You'd see the cover with Santa Goldie, then click to open the card to this year's message, which is:
Peace on Earth and Mercy Mild
Blessings this Christmas and in the New Year
Since I'm a non computer savvy cheapskate you'll just have to imagine it.
I also wanted to set up a link to this year's Christmas letter, but there does not appear to be a harbor for PDFs on this website's platform so I have nothing to link to. Those who receive actual cards via snail mail will of course be getting them if you haven't already. Others who may be interested in reading this year's Christmas Letter can do so by scrolling down the page a bit. Of course it's mainly for friends and family, but, hey, anybody can be curious...
Merry Christmas
Scroll down if you dare
GOLDEN BARKS
We lost our dear dog Neva this past August, something we learned about on our first full day of vacation in Maine. All we care to say here is that she died under shocking and tragic circumstances way before her time. Sorry, this is a terrible way to start a Christmas letter, and we apologize for opening with a total bummer (if it helps, you might compare this to Ebeneezer Scrooge hobnobbing with Jacob Marley's ghost to start off A Christmas Carol). In this case, our heartbreaking experience relates to other information we'd like to share.
Which is that we made a wonderful friend that day. After being traumatized with the news, we attempted with little success to enjoy Acadia National Park. When we returned to the perfect VRBO we had rented, the owner walked outside to great us. She asked us how we had enjoyed the day, and we shared that we had done our best given the news we had received that morning. She expressed shock and concern when we told her what happened and then asked an interesting question: "Do you know who I am?" Not in the indignant and self-important tone of voice stereotypically associated with that query. Rather, with kindness and concern, as if to avoid burdening us with unnecessary preamble.
Our VRBO owner is Jennifer Skiff, author, award winning journalist, and internationally recognized animal advocate. Translation: "Do you know who I am? I am the guardian angel of all dogs, and I hope to soothe your distress and quiet your burdened minds."
You can - and should - read about her on www.jenniferskiff.com. To us, it was a blessing that we had chosen her lovely property as our way station while on Mount Desert Island. Her kindness and insight kept us on keel. Jenny's one of those people who just knows when to give you a shoulder and when to provide space to breathe. One of her books is The Divinity of Dogs, and our experience that week in many ways had mystical canine vibes.
Just one example: After a couple of days exploring, we asked Jenny if she had a favorite hike on the island, hopefully not super crowded. She told us about a trail which is not part of the national park, but which is nonetheless eternal parkland. It was established decades ago by the Rockefeller family as a place where their dogs could roam freely. She broke out a map and began marking the way. First you park here, then you take the "Friends" Trail. At the end of that you begin the "David and Neva" Trail.
Q: WHAT did you just say?!
A: The "David and Neva" Trail.
Whoa.
This trail is named for two dog loving Rockefellers - David, who blazed the trail in the late 1940s, and his daughter Neva, who revived it 25 years later. In 2015, the Rockefeller family donated 1000 acres, including this trail, to the Mount Desert Land and Garden Preserve with the condition that it remain dog friendly in perpetuity. We had to go. It is a beautiful place to hike, and it is very welcoming to dogs - both on land and in the pond the trail borders. We came across a younger person whose dog was swimming enthusiastically, making bubbles and chasing them. Crystal said, "He's having fun," and the lady replied, "Oh yeah, this place is heaven for dogs." As we continued the four-mile circuit, Anthony came to think that this gorgeous location represents the kind of place where Neva might peacefully continue her divine existence. He kept imagining her bopping around or sleeping in the sun. It helped. Our brother-in-law John often references the "Rainbow Bridge," something pets cross after they die to a lovely meadow where they wait for us to reconnect on the way to heaven. If ever a place fit that pleasant thought, this is it.
We shared a couple of good talks with Jenny during our stay and remain in touch. Our bad news would have been infinitely harder to negotiate without her compassion for us (who were, after all, just a couple of strangers renting her digs for a few days). There were many other curious moments as we grieved which could easily be labeled as signs or divine interventions. Maybe they were just coincidences or wishful thinking on our part, but whatever one might want to call them, we derived comfort.
We knew we would eventually want another dog, but also knew that our mourning processes would take precedence. A few weeks later, although we were still distraught, Crystal's birthday rolled around and Anthony could not resist. We welcomed a new fluffy little dog into our lives. That's her on the painting for this year's card. She's part Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and part Bichon Frise; what they call a "designer dog" with the fancy label Cavachon. We named her Goldilocks Jennifer Cavachon - Goldie for short. Goldilocks for her golden fur and penchant for wanting things just right. Jennifer for Jenny S., who really did guide us tenderly as we navigated our dreadful loss of Neva. And Cavachon because, well, it sounds classier than "Mutt."
Maybe we should have waited a bit longer because we catch ourselves sometimes calling her Neva by mistake, but Goldie is a different personality who busies herself fully imprinting her own vibes on the household. Sometimes tearing about at near the speed of sound and other times sprawled on the floor in a pose mirroring that of all bear rugs. Her eyes, expressive beyond belief, come from the spaniel part of her background. Piet, our 18-year-old deaf cat, is a good friend to her when she's in bear rug mode and a formidable enemy when she's being a puppy.
Other news:
Blah blah blah Work blah blah blah Family blah bl- Recreation (not enough) blah blah blah Life. Lather, rinse, repeat.
As with so many people in our demographic we find ourselves, Crystal especially, involved profoundly in the care of an elderly parent. Georgia is 98, gaining swiftly on 99, and life is not easy for her these days. We ask your prayers that her days and nights might be peaceful and her mind calmed. In return, we wish you, dear reader, a peaceful and joy filled holiday and upcoming year.
Crystal & Anthony
(and Goldie and Piet)
