June 12, 1949, Don Richard Davis begin  writing Chapter 1 of his earthly  book of life.  He was born in  Salt Lake City, Utah to Don E. and Melba P. Davis. He was their first child and a typical happy,  cheerful,  bouncing baby  and toddler.  The happiest days of his childhood were spent in Moab, Utah where there were wide open spaces and mountains and valleys to be explored and the freedom to roam afoot or on the back of a horse. By then three sisters had been added to the clan and he was very protective of them.  When the family moved to West Jordan a little brother arrived  and he was even more protective of him.   Chapter after chapter were written and he took pride that not only did he write them but he did the editing, the illustrating, and was to be the publisher as well..  He illustrated the pages with a palette of color all his own.   The architectural creativity of his mind produced  great stories to be shared, fact and fiction sometimes became a blended mirage and you never knew if he was pulling your leg or your ponytail.   All he had to say wasn't whispered.  If he liked you, you knew it, if he didn't you knew it too.   He coveted that which he loved, usually loving animals more than people unless it was a snake or a frog.  He loved good food but many days he drank his meals.  When that finally became too much of a burden for his mind and body he quit and an unopened bottle of Royal Crown still sits on the shelf as a reminder of those dark days.    He had a penchant for expensive boots and always kept his clean and shining .   He mainly wore cowboy hats,  and was a cowboy of his own kind.  He wore his hair short he wore it long, it didn't matter he didn't care to fit in.   Chapter after chapter he wrote and illustrated  but sometimes he lacked editing skills as he had little, well maybe, no  filter, THIS WAS HIS BOOK OF LIFE..  He loved horses and always dreamed of having a heard of them from his beloved Smokey - his mustang stallion .  This dream took him out of the Salt Lake valley to the basin area when he bought 5 acres on a mountainside near Duchesne.  He sketched out a hermit type lifestyle.  Happiness found in a broken down trailer surrounded by sagebrush and juniper trees.  A couple of horses, some chipmunks who would listen, birds eating from his many feeders,  a few western movies, and the stars above.  Lord it was good to be free!  He pounded out postholes for a fence,  all by hand with a sick heart that was more than three quarters gone, but it didn't matter because that was his norm.  He was illustrating his book with the palette of colors he loved.  He was living his dream raising his horses, nurturing new tree seedling, building paths with the abundant rocks on his lot, mesmerized by the Sun dogs.   He found  his Spiritual peace on that mountainside.   He was loved by many but few could spend a lot of time with him.  But thank the good Lord he was  free. The rules of law, society, and those who taught impending doom didn't touch his soul because he knew he could  prevail.  But in the early morning hours June 30, 2018,  18 days into Chapter 69 of his book a surprising twist to the story occurred.  While re-cooperating in a rehab from a fall and badly broken leg  he quietly, peacefully and gallantly mounted his steed one last time  and the trail rose up to meet him as he  rode across to the other side to be greeted by those who have been gathered at the campfire waiting for him to join them.  He is now free from the earthly  pain of his broken body and mind and he can see things more clearly now.   If you care to join us we will have a Celebration of his Life Saturday, July 7th at 11310 South 2865 West in the back yard from noon until 3 p.m.    Rick let the Sun-dogs shine upon you and no "quiche" should not have to be cut with a steak knife 😊