Rafir lived out his name, the Gaelic word for “blessing.” He took his job seriously as the Farm Kitchen Official Greeter, welcoming each newcomer with an enticing wag, a gentle nudge or a friendly body-lean. Born on Whidbey Island in 1998, he was brought to the farm by Hollis & Anne on a fall day in 1999, after their first sighting revealed the one-year old Rafir carrying a kitten by the nape of its neck, as does a mama cat.

Rare has been the day since that Rafir was away from his duty post at Farm Kitchen, greeting and charming each person who paused to observe his presence. He greeted breakfast guests, recognizing the cars of regular pals. He wooed prospective brides & grooms and befriended 4-legged pals visiting from the city with their people. Day-in, day-out, he supervised the kitchen from his respected boundary just outside the kitchen door, kept company in the office, helped to feed the horses and supervised all outdoor action.

Rafir assisted in the many stages of Farm Kitchen’s development. In the early years of every-Saturday bakery pastries, he hung out with the crowd around the wood stove out front. When the pasture out back gave way to a grass lawn, he found his way to the outdoor tables, keeping folks company. Between guests, he supervised Hollis & Anne as they planted trees and lavender, dug out buried concrete, cleared compost areas and laid out new gardens. Spring through summer, he rested on the grassy slopes near where we worked. During summer & fall weddings and parties, he supervised the setup of chairs & tables, then gracefully ceded his territory to the guests coming in for the day, knowing he’d be back on duty after their departure to patrol the grounds for remnant tidbits requiring his dispatch. During fall and winter classes and the joyful days of Gingerbread House Parties, Rafir welcomed each arrival, then waited patiently for his friends to emerge so he could wag them on their way.

Patience was not his only virtue. When invited, he leaped to catch the high-flying Frisbee with an astounding agility, day or night, and chased wildly at the beach with anyone who would play and around the property at the hint of bear or coyote scent. His delight in running described his part-Australian Shepherd genes, and his beguiling play with the horses revealed his gentle black Labrador side.

In late January the stunning news came that Rafir was incurably ill. After a 3-week hiatus of a true grace period full of visits with friends and many joyous days, he relaxed in an especially happy sunny Sunday of gentle walks and a head-out-the window car ride. Then early on President’s Day, February 21, 2011, Rafir left us, peacefully. His generous, sweet-spirit of blessing will remain a part of Farm Kitchen, always.