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- Paradise Camp
- Blue Highways
- Valley Livestock
- Eating Well
- Herrick Farm
- Sights Along the River
- Christmas Treasures
- A Return Trip
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McKenzie River: Valley Livestock
As I said, I was on my way to visit my friend, Bea, whom I met in 1969 when I went to work for the City of Eugene and have been friends with ever since. Bea's new place is right on the lower McKenzie River maybe 10 miles out of the Eugene/Springfield urban area, her post office box is Walterville. Walterville has the post office, grocery store, bait shop, barber, hair salon, some sort of art gallery we haven't been to yet and a Feed and Tackle store. This looks the most interesting to me; among the various Purina Chow ads and fishing scenes on the side of the building, they advertise emu. I think it means emu meat for sale, but we haven't been in to see--could be setting eggs for all I know. (Bea's only been her for about 6 weeks, so she hasn't covered everything yet.)
Bea's house sits right on a deep curve in the river, across from a sand bar island, created she says because Weyerhaueser cut down all the trees and changed the river's bed. But it sure makes for a nice front yard view.  There's a resident heron and a small flock of Candian geese that are still hanging around and often a boat of fisherman in the evening. In the side yard there are half dozen ancient apple trees from when this was an orchard, and two of them even have apples; she leaves them for the deer. Across the road are some uncurious cows and there are flocks of goats and sheep as well as pigs, more cows, horses and llamas in the neighborhood. One morning we woke up to see a small flock of (presumably) wild turkeys in the back yard. All in all it's quite bucolic and relaxing.
We have our own livestock, too. Bea's older lady dog, Penny, is a German Shorthair, a water dog of about 50 lbs, a lovely chocolate color with white markings here and there including a stripe up her forehead.  She's slower than she used to be, but still has a very distinctive and commanding, but quiet, "huff" when she spots game birds, which probably was valuable to the German hunters. Except Penny hates the water, though, so her usefulness would end with identification. She's friendly and lovable. Where most dogs appear to chase rabbits when they dream, as evidenced by the twitching legs, Penny seems to be making friends, because mostly her tail wags when she's dreaming.
Bea's grandson's dog lives on the property, too (along with the grandson, but he's part of the restaurant start-up which I'll tell about shortly, so we mostly get dog duty). This dog is named Cody and is some sort of black, long-haired herding dog. He has the biggest, blackest nose and the wickedest dog grin I have ever seen. As far as I can tell, he has no job here (no herd but us) except to pick up burrs of various sorts in his long curly coat. His most charming quality is a mighty convincing limp whenever he gets scolded. Because he's always lived with a GUY, we're trying to teach him not to come in when he's wet until after he's been toweled off. STAY, CODY, SIT. DOWN. WAIT. STOP. HALT. (Well, he's not dumb, he must know one of those words.) Then we bring out the drying rag. He immediately starts keeling over on a rear leg and looking pitiful. But usually he waits long enough to get kind of dry. The command "OKAY" seems to be easy for him, though. Oh, and our final livestock in residence right now is an enormous cloud (flock? gaggle?) of fruit flies. Bea claims there were only a few before I came and brought wine, but I don't believe her.
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