Hi, I'm Pema
Hi everyone,
Pema enjoying sunset at Wild Iris, Wyoming, 2017.
My name is Pema, and, while I don’t want to be self-centered and egotistical, most people would say I’m the bedrock of this family.
I’m a bonafide Germapeake Retrepherd, and I originally came from South Dakota. My great-aunt Clemeshpetine said I was always the star of the litter and the most clever, but I take that with a grain of salt since she was a little batty.
Anyway, back in Ought Six, I was officially transferred to Boulder, where Mom and Dad found me. I pulled the wool over their eyes by acting all calm and Zen-like - hence, they named me Pema, which means “lotus flower” in Tibetan. Kinda coincidental, since my great-great-great-great uncle Kuchwalta spent the last years of his life in Lhasa as the official yak meat pre-masticator for the Dalai Lama’s Lhasa Apso, Tim.
But, back to my point, my Mom and Dad thought I was a little lotus flower, so they named me Pema, but I soon showed them my real personality which is a bit more fiery.
I learned to swim in Ought Seven by jumping into the rapids of Clear Creek in Golden, Colorado, and making Dad jump in to rescue me and shorting out two new cell phones in the process. That was fun. It wasn’t long after that that I discovered my true love, Jeronimo. The first time I saw him, he was rolling gently down the old funicular track on South Table Mountain, and it was love at first sight. Ever since, Jeronimo and I have been thick as thieves, and he follows me everywhere: I’ve carried him and fetched him and dived to the bottom of ponds and rivers for him. I’ve even licked the lichen off his back a time or two. We’ve had some adventures, from the Painted Desert to Stinson Beach, Poudre Canyon to Cochise Stronghold. My family doesn’t always get it, calling Jeronimo simply a rock half the time. They even call him a ball sometimes, too. I know - hilarious, right??
I was once a movie star as well. I think it was back in the summer of ‘11 - which was a great one, by the way - when my friends Emily Nuchols, Jenny Nichols, and Andy Maser came to my house to tell my story. It was a bit of a biopic, called Wild Love. My family was in it, too, but I think I had the best parts if I do say so myself.
Oh, boy, I digressed again - sorry. I must be getting hungry. Whenever I get hungry, my third cousin, Pouschzap from Uruguay used to always tell me I’d start rambling, which is kind of funny since he would ramble all the time, talking about funny things and getting distracted all the time, and going on and on and on. Whew. I mean, really.
My main point of all this is to let you know I’m a pretty adventurous old lady, with a lot of miles under my belt and a lot more to go. I’m really excited about our coming adventure, and about getting to share bits and pieces of it with you. And, I’m really excited to share some of my life philosophy with you as well; it’s at once simple and complex, borne from my long and rich 13.5 years, a profound mix of trial by fire and transcendent love.
I’ve got a lot to say and a lot to share, and my family might write a thing or two as well. (But, although sweet and caring, they’re not really that interesting - don’t say I didn’t warn you.)
I don’t like long, drawn out goodbyes, so I won’t say woof and all that, but know it’s not because I don’t care.
- Pema