Sitting around my sister’s dining room table last month, sipping coffee and reading a handful of words in Lauren Akins’ Live in Love between all the chatter, I ordered Heather Lende’s Take Good Care of the Garden and the Dogs. Heather is an Alaskan obituary writer and author, she’s also been run over by a truck. My introduction to her was Find the Good, a quick read of last words and stories of lives well lived (thanks for the recommendation, Jess).

Take Good Care of the Garden and the Dogs is the bestselling author’s book on faith and friendship, Haines’ breathtaking beauty, and the remarkable residents of the small northwestern town. I think you should read it.

Like many readers, I put myself into the words. Careful to not spoil your reading, Heather talks with her mom several chapters in, it’s the book’s namesake. I’ll keep it there for now to share my version of her mom’s wisdom.

Rolling out of bed on Saturday morning, searching for my sunglasses to place on my head, and sliding into some slippers, I head to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. While brewing, the dogs follow to each window, conducting a perimeter check while I open the blinds to the already-risen sun. Dill runs to her kennel, spinning around, sitting, staring at me wagging her tail. I know exactly what she wants. Picking up their bowls, scooping feed, and walking to the kitchen, I begin cleaning out my fridge like I do every morning. This morning they’re treated to blueberries, leftover chicken, and a supplement powder we’ve been trying for Dill’s itchy skin (allergies are in full bloom around here). After feeding the dogs, it’s time to move a door down to the Chicken Suite. If you’ve ever wondered how good of a man Lane is (you probably haven’t – it’s pretty evident), you can stop wondering. I’ve turned our guest bedroom into the chick’s brooder while their coop is under construction. Noticing only five of my ladies, my eyes dart around the room, trying to find the M.I.A chick. She’s scared shitless (literally it’s all over the floor) and is happy to be placed back with her sisters. Instead of sitting down to enjoy my coffee, vacuuming and mopping it is. How can one chick expel so much? As I was on my hands and knees scrubbing, even still, I was happy to spend the morning with the chicks. I know I’m wild for this. It reminds me of something I saw on Instagram.

“What can be more healing than making beings happy each day and watching them respond gleefully to your care,” said American farmer and lecturer, Joel Salatin.

I’ve felt it my whole life but could never put it into words. I know some think a goldfish is inconvenient. A dog on the couch, or even better, on the bed, is an abomination. Crazy to think animals are a life-ruiner, they’re not just included in my dream life, they make up nearly the entire picture; to each their own.

I’m off to feed the bottle calf, then maybe treat myself to a pedicure. If I leave now, I’ll be home in time to water the garden and read from a rocking chair on the porch, listening to an aviary symphony.

I’m grateful to live where I can take good care of the garden, the dogs, the chickens, and the cows.

It would be my last words, too, Heather’s mom.