The Very Best Companion

The core beginnings of the piece I called Companion are very whimsical, yet it has deep roots. It evolved as the shape was revealing itself. My common design technique is to form the piece in the moment. All forms of clay have a presence, whether it be traditionally prepared or not. Different batches have different temperaments. The last clay batch I mixed a couple of days ago was particularly insistent, and I have the cuts on my fingertips as evidence. The clay is as much a designer as I am. There is a silent agreement happening, and once I sense the clay is urging my hands to do one thing, I will nod and carry out the action. Companion was one of the pieces that came with me on my trip to Oklahoma City for Red Earth Festival 2026 and found his new home there.

Companion from the beginning felt very playful and alert, and I wondered what was happening, like the choice had already been made. This didn’t feel like Hummingbird at all, other than the constant energy it conveyed. Who are you, I asked the form. I have dogs and cats, and my cats, well, no. Once I was forming the polygon that would became the tail, it metaphorically wagged, and I knew it could be no one else but the beloved rez dogs that have kept me company my whole life. Companion looked as though he was waiting for me to throw a tennis ball for him to chase or give him a treat. As I remembered more, my laughs became louder. Dogs from the Reservation are a unique, bulletproof breed, as any native american will attest. As I am typing this, my current dog Barney is trying to find a way to get on my roof to finally get even with the outdoor cats. My whole life’s journey has at least one defining rez dog story at every turn it seems, like the time I was a tribal officer and my german shepherd, Ren, followed me in my patrol truck at night faithfully, until I relented and he became my unofficial lieutenant. After my year of service was over, he continued to follow that same truck for the next year, even though the officer was a different person. Or the other time during our annual feast day on July 14th for Saint Bonaventure’s Day, Cochiti’s largest corn dance of the year. The event is grand, full of pomp and circumstance. In the days leading up to it, the village was blessed by much needed rain; so much so that it flooded the plaza and left behind a sizable pool of water. The Sea of Cochiti did not stop the event; our kivas adjusted and carried out our dance in other areas of the plaza, even though more than half of it was underwater. Now, one thing that Ren was fond of was throughout his long life was watching our dances throughout the year and being polite about it (plaza dog fights are a sight to behold). No amount of deep stagnant rainwater or mud was going to ruin his viewing experience. He walked right to the center of the temporary lake, sat down and watched the dance for his pleasure; a lone sentinel who it seemed everyone was dancing for. Some of the stewards of the dance attempted to plan to shoo him away but they did not dare traverse the turbulent waters that day.  Ren is prominent in many of these stories, and he is who Companion represents. Although he has been gone for awhile his floppy ears (which I initially tried in vain to stand up like a proper german shepherd) were always getting into adventures. I need to do a separate piece on rez dog stories, that would be something…