On the way back from the Indian Ruins when we got lost in the dark, I was riding in the front seat with Devon. It was too cold to ride in the back of the pick-up with everybody else - this silly Utah girl had come to Arizona in the winter without even a sweater. As we drove around those steep, rough and bumpy dirt roads - often in circles - Devon told me of another adventure at a different local ruin which was more remote and more difficult to access. He had made that trek with a friend. At the top of the mesa, Nature called, and Devon answered. His friend warned him not to do it - they were in a sacred place and the ancient spirits would be angry and would curse him if he did. Disbelieving, Devon relieved himself anyway. He told me that shortly afterward, he broke out in a really awful and inexplicable rash that lasted for days. 

At Devon's memorial, family and friends got up to eulogize Devon, and they each told a "true" story about Devon valiantly saving them while succumbing to the threat himself. Every story ended with "Too bad, the [fill-in-the-blank] got him."  I was just getting up to tell my story when the zookeeper politely announced that we needed to close. So I'll end my story now as the others did: "I learned from Devon of the importance of respecting other cultures. It's just too bad that the ancients got him after all."

I love you, Devon.

Waiting for Bruno Mars

We caught a Vegas show at the Bellagio. It was Bruno Mars! Bruno asked for a volunteer from the audience and they chose Devon! It must have been because of his cool moves while we were dancing in the foyer before the show started. Devon wasn't even nervous! Look at him go!