​Once the passageway's built the animals will indeed come. And the difficulty of being wild in this world will be less for them, thanks to P-22. As I've walked along it's trail-like dirt road I’ve thought about how he never knew this beautiful spot, never got the chance to roam through these valleys, over creeks, to the other side of the Simi Hills and beyond. But - was that his spirit I felt? Does he know what he’s done? Can he wander wherever he wants now?

My little ‘field of dreams’ bleeds into where the Annenberg Wildlife Crossing will be. It’s not a vast sea of cornstalks or wide open farm fields. My ‘field’ is a carpet of green unrolling between gentle hills and bordered by the 101 freeway at the entrance end. It will host the obvious legacy of P-22; concrete proof, literally, that P-22 will be remembered and celebrated for years beyond counting.

My hope is that the bridge will blend gently into my valley-'field' and it will be covered in the same soft, velvety green it is now, turning to yellows and dry grasses as summer comes.

It can't stay this way forever, undiscovered and green. 

It Is Happening! The Wildlife Crossing is Happening. History is happening in Liberty Canyon.

Since 2014 I've cheered on this largest wildlife corridor in the world. 
mystorytails.com/true-tails/p-22s-cougar-crossing
​mystorytails.com/true-tails/p-22s-101-wildlife-crossing-is-happening
mystorytails.com/true-tails/p-22-power-to-the-puma

Reaching back as I move forward. Memories see me through. 

I was fortunate growing up in a nice town, Portland Oregon, with a loving family. For all my frustrations (how come we weren't rich? why didn't we live in a big important city?), childhood is my rock. So many were raised in the eye of the storm or left to their own survival devices, I was lucky. We can't choose our family, it's up to the fates and some benevolent spirit graced me with a close, caring, stable home. Health, not much wealth, but my parents were hard working, responsible people and that mattered all down the road and into adult life. I can't imagine facing life's struggles or trusting your judgement if no one led by example or loved you in those early years. I could tell how proud my mom was of me, I could feel it. That feeling doesn't go away, nor the confidence it builds.  

Here's part of Mary. Mary minus her upper half is all that I have from years and years of photos showing her sharing time with West Valley Shelter dogs. Mary, Betty & Bubba August 2016. It's fortunate that others saved some of Paula Hsien's sweet photos. 

Mary appeared in countless photos with countless dogs. She became a familiar face to me, comforting, snuggling, talking to them, looking them in the eye, soothing, she was their connection to kindness. Shelter kennels are noisy, smelly, scarey, panic-filled so time in the yard with Mary was a way to stay sane, feel love again. A pat, a kiss, a 'good boy', a rub of the nose or having their head held - touch that meant everything. 

Usually Jimmie and I take long morning walks. The Backbone Trail hike is, a hike. Three miles of zig-zagging and half of it is up hill with a patch of stretching-over-boulders thrown in for variety. The back and forth seems endless and this time I felt it even the day after. Gone are the days of quick muscle recovery. First time for Jimmie and maybe the last time for me.

Years have gone by since I was here last but I still remember the underside of boulders and the earth on the upper trail, red-tinted. And trees. Ah the deep-red bark trees. What are they? I see them on no other trails and only higher up on this one. It's been years, seven or ten, since I was here last and there are fewer of these trees; the bark peeling in a way that's new to me. But I think of them on some morning walks because I don't see them anywhere else, they're a kind of unique beauty, found in a unique place.

A helicopter was the only sound barging into nature. It was a hillside away, then it hovered over an empty intersection, it came nearer and nearer and finally, it was just above Jimmie and I. A welcome sight if I were lost but today the whirrrrrrring wasn't welcome.

The pay off is the summit. The reward for slogging along like molasses up hill is standing in one spot and seeing The Valley on one side and The Ocean on the other. June gloom clouds covered the ocean but I've seen it before, it's there. Quiet and spectacular nature as far as the eye can see. 

​On Earth Day 2022 I witnessed to something historic and exalted:
​the Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing groundbreaking.
​Senators, Congress Members, Mayors… Julia Butters, community leaders and students from Esperanza Elementary School attended. This ceremonial day for the world's largest critter corridor was a day filled with laughter and hope for California wildlife. 
​Watch Here https://www.facebook.com/p22mountainlionofhollywood/videos/2095216833959743

​My shero, Beth Pratt shouldered this $87 million dream 10 years in the making. Thanks to her driving force more than 5,000 individual contributions were made. This innovative dream will reduce car/animal collisions, reconnect animals that have been isolated from each other causing inbreeding and reducing genetic diversity, putting many species on the path to extinction. It's an escape route if natural disasters happen and gives insects, birds, coyotes, bobcats, deer, snakes, lizards, toads and even ants a way to cross 10 lanes of freeway. The Santa Monica Mountains Foundation even created a special plant nursery that will grow all of the fauna to cover the crossing. This bridge, spanning a freeway that carries 300,000 vehicles every day, will be a lifeline 200-feet-long, 165-feet-wide.

​As if we needed a reminder as to how critical and timely this safe crossing is, ONE DAY BEFORE this celebration, an 18-month-old mountain lion recently separated from its mother and seeking its own terrain was hit and killed on the 405 freeway. 26 Santa Monica Mountains lions have been killed since 2002.

There he was, grabbing at my heart again. Beautiful Bo. In logo form. 

In 2007 I designed this logo for Animal Surgical & Emergency Center. From the start I wanted this art to be a legacy for Bo as much as a strong and appropriate design for ASEC. I hunted for an illustrator and found a man in Canada who created a one-and-only-German-Shepherd drawing. Original and dedicated to Bo.

Bo left this world in 2003, this logo was my tribute to the boy who re-opened my door to the dog world. Conversations, friendships, education about dogs, an appreciation for the like-minded began because of him, the boy who started me down the rescue path. My 1st dog as an adult: BO. Boey, Bobo, Bobolinsky, Baby-bo, Bobolicious, Boey-bo-bo. Gone too soon.

Today, 15 years later, out of the blue, there it was. As I scrolled down the Lange Foundation Facebook
page looking for an update on Justin, recently rescued with a little help from me, Bo grabbed my heart. Stopped me in my tracks. He is on my mind less but never out of mind, he will always linger, there will always be reminders. Deep in my heart Bo, you live. Today his outline in white demanded my attention
​- oh hello old unforgettable friend. Hello again.

In winter, after the rains, some of my walking trails turn into brown mush. Unwalkable with dense and damp clumps of earth clinging to the bottom of my boots. Other trails, usually worn hard, have puddles for dogs to splash through and me to figure out how to cross.

This morning, something totally unexpected at Las Virgenes. Now I know why there's always been a sandy patch to the side of a small, barely noticeable streambed. It's been more active than I thought. Rushing water has filled that slight and shallow channel before but days ago, it was a force cutting through, exposing rocks and tree roots, leaving a gash all along the earth of it's path. January rains hollowed out a new winding way for the next heavy rain run off. Heavy like it hasn't been in 20+ years.