Peter would have been 3 1/2 years old

I can't believe so many days and nights have gone buy since that Sunday last May when I lost Peter. Spring was gentle and slow coming. I recall May 5th sitting on the porch enjoying the sun with Peter in my lap. I was praying for his ears to become normal. You see he had tall, thin and somewhat balding ears that with poor blood circulation were only getting worse. The Vets medicine slowed the process but Peter was destine to suffer his hole life. It was at that moment as another tuft of fur fell out that I gave up the battle he and I waged for over 2 years and put it in God's hands.
The next day was nice I had the door open letting Peter stroll and lay in the sun while I prepared to bottle some home brew. Highway 58 is about 1 minute away. I never imagined that Peter would go so far all by himself. Within minutes I realised he was missing and began calling for him, then looking, then the fear set in. I never saw Peter alive again. Minutes later I found him on the highway dead with no one in sight. A victim of hit and run. I will always remember Peter as the smartest, cutest wandering mate I ever had. He was clever and boy did like catching mice. We would walk thought the woods looking for mushrooms. Fish for steelhead camp with Bigfoot hunters and we never got tired of each others company. Even on those long highway trips through California.

Once I found him running with a small group of elk in the woods behind the house. So I gave him a native name "Runs With Elk".