Las Cruces, New Mexico · 2026
Yellowhorn Falls is a nonprofit ecosystem rooted in the Chihuahuan Desert — building worker-owned veterinary care, free at-home euthanasia, ecological art, and the infrastructure communities have always deserved.
Named for a tree that grows at 137.5° — the golden angle. The ratio that cannot be improved upon.
Our Mission
Yellowhorn Falls exists at the intersection of grief, science, and community — building sustainable systems for veterinary access, ecological research, and economic dignity in underserved regions of the American Southwest.
"The way we work has always felt less like building a nonprofit and more like tending a forest — patient with the roots, clear about the light, willing to wait."
We believe every family deserves a dignified goodbye. Every veterinary professional deserves economic sovereignty. Every community deserves the research that proves it matters.
Our Vision
We envision a Southern New Mexico where veterinary care is accessible regardless of income, where grief is met with presence rather than bills, and where the professionals who give the most have ownership over their work and their lives.
"The yellowhorn tree grows in a spiral — 137.5 degrees between each branch. Every part reaches toward the light it was always growing toward."
This is not charity. This is infrastructure. Built to last 144 years and beyond.
Our Purpose
Yellowhorn Falls was founded by a Certified Veterinary Technician who spent 17 years on the surgery floor and in the margins — building solutions because the systems didn't. Every program we run is rooted in lived experience, not theory.
We serve Doña Ana County, Luna County, and the broader borderlands — communities where veterinary access gaps are wide, where grief arrives without warning, and where the people doing the hardest work are the least economically protected.
What We Stand On
These are not aspirational words on a wall. They are the bones of every decision we make.
Every family, every species, every grief. No one is turned away because of what they can afford. Dignity is not a premium service — it is the baseline.
We build from the specific place we stand — the Chihuahuan Desert, the borderlands, Doña Ana County and Luna County. We do not parachute in. We grow from the soil.
Worker ownership is not a perk. It is the point. The people doing the work should hold the equity, the decisions, and the future of the organization.
When grief arrives, the most powerful thing we can offer is to be there. Not a voicemail. Not a form. A human being, in the room, at the moment it matters most.
The yellowhorn is not a metaphor — it is a real tree with documented ecological value. Every program we build is grounded in research, data, and the discipline to be honest about what works.
We do not extract. We tend. We co-create. We return. The gift economy runs through everything we build — because generosity given freely grows back in shapes you didn't plant.
Who We Are
We took notes. Now we build.
Daisy Chavez Archer, CVT
Executive Director + Co-Founder
Born and raised in the borderlands — daughter of Socorrito "La Changa" Soler, an immigrant mother who made beauty out of everything she touched, and who passed away on November 26, 2025. Her archive lives on through reClaimed.
A stage 4 colon cancer survivor, 17-year Certified Veterinary Technician, and dual MBA/MSW candidate, Daisy spent a decade building veterinary infrastructure in Colorado — including advising organizations that went on to raise over $100 million — before coming home to Las Cruces to build what she couldn't find anywhere else.
When her beloved greyhound Flower — who had come to her as a four-week-old puppy with a broken leg and spent thirteen years as her closest companion — died in her arms because no one would come, The Flower Fund was born.
She is the navigator. She came home.
Katherine Archer, RN, MSN
Research Director + Creative Director + Co-Founder
Katherine holds a Master of Science in Nursing and an undergraduate degree in Ecological Studies — a combination that has defined every role she has held. She spent over a decade serving the most under-resourced corners of New Mexico's public health infrastructure: as a school nurse serving an entire district — driving between underfunded schools, as a public health nurse with the NM State Health Department, and as a behavioral health nurse serving rural and border communities.
She is also an ecological artist whose work has been commissioned privately, displayed in medical offices and tattoo studios, and permanently carried on people's bodies as grief made visible.
Her mother, Mimi, died on March 17, 2025. She grieved without community infrastructure designed for queer people in rural New Mexico. She is building it now.
She held the flame.
What We Build
Six branches. One root system. Each program a different expression of the same mission: build what the community has always needed.
Free and sliding-scale at-home euthanasia for families who cannot afford clinic fees. Because every companion deserves a dignified goodbye, and no family should face that moment alone due to cost.
Learn About The Flower Fund →A worker-owned mobile veterinary cooperative serving Luna County, Doña Ana County, and the surrounding borderlands. Where the road ends, we begin.
Learn About Node Cero →The research arm of Yellowhorn Falls — seven active protocols investigating yellowhorn propagation, nervonic acid applications, and Chihuahuan Desert ecology. Led by Katherine Archer, MSN, Lead PI. Science that serves the land.
View Research Protocols →Ecological art rooted in grief, land, and reclamation. The inaugural collection — La Changa's Archive — honors the companions and relationships that shaped this work. Art as ecological testimony. The grief is the proof of the love.
Visit reClaimed →The first national certification framework for at-home companion animal euthanasia. We train veterinarians, CVTs, and care providers to hold families with skill, presence, and love at the end of life.
Natural burial integrated with active land stewardship in Luna County. Bodies returned to soil — because how we leave matters as much as how we arrived. Death as ecological participation rather than extraction. The land receives us the way it has always received everything — completely, without condition, and in its own time.
The Flower Fund
Free and sliding-scale at-home pet euthanasia for families across southern New Mexico. Because dignity at the end of a companion's life is not a luxury — it is something every family deserves, regardless of what's in the bank account.
The Flower Fund is named for Flower — a greyhound who came into Daisy's life as a four-week-old puppy with a broken leg, and spent thirteen years as her most faithful companion. When it was time to say goodbye, no one would come to them. Flower died in Daisy's arms, in their home, with the love she deserved — but without the professional presence that should have been there. The Flower Fund exists so that never happens to another family.
Through The Flower Fund, families who cannot afford the cost of at-home euthanasia receive the same quality of care, presence, and dignity as anyone else. A sliding scale. A real person. A goodbye that honors the life lived.
No Kin Left Behind. 🌸
Tell us about your companion. We will reach out within 24 hours. No family turned away.
Every request is held with care. No one is turned away due to cost.
Node Cero
Node Cero is a worker-owned mobile veterinary cooperative launching Summer 2026 across Luna County and Doña Ana County. Families in these communities drive 60–90 minutes for basic animal care — not because they don't love their animals, but because no one built the infrastructure for them. Node Cero is that infrastructure. Veterinarians and CVTs who join the cooperative hold equity in what they build. Sliding-scale pricing means no family is turned away. And through The Flower Fund integration, every Node Cero clinic carries the capacity to be there at the end of life — at home, with presence, at no cost to families who cannot afford it.
We are actively recruiting founding clinical partners. CE credits. Honorarium. A practice you actually own.
Launching Summer 2026 · Luna County & Doña Ana County, New Mexico
Low-cost vaccine days, microchipping, and wellness clinics — coming to your community this summer. Our inaugural Node Cero clinics are made possible in part through the generous support of Nusenda Credit Union, our founding community sponsor.
Are you a DVM or CVT in southern New Mexico?
Clinical partner details coming soon. Get in touch to learn more.
Get In Touch
reClaimed — Ecological Art
reClaimed is Katherine Archer's ecological art practice — rooted in the borderlands, in land, in loss, and in what we carry forward. Her work has been commissioned privately, displayed in medical offices and tattoo studios, and permanently carried on people's bodies as grief made visible.
La Changa's Archive is reClaimed's inaugural collection — a living memorial to Socorrito "La Changa" Soler, who passed on November 26, 2025. La Changa was Katherine's mother-in-law, and this archive is Katherine's way of honoring the woman who made beauty out of everything she touched. The collection exhibits La Changa's jewelry, her art, and the poetry attached to it — objects that carry the full weight of a life.
"We are building the archive she deserved. Not a memorial. A living thing — tended, added to, and shared with communities who know that grief does not end, it transforms."
reClaimed is where ecological practice and grief literacy meet. It is the softest arm of the ecosystem, and the most necessary.
The collection is being built. When the door opens, it will open here.
Gaia Underground Labs — Research Division
Six active research protocols grounded in Luna County, New Mexico. Partnered with NMSU and beyond. Led by our founding team — because science that serves the land cannot be done from a distance.
The Tree That Chose Us
Xanthoceras sorbifolium — the yellowhorn tree — is drought-resistant, nitrogen-fixing, and carries a documented lifespan of 250 years. It thrives in the driest corners of the American Southwest and asks nothing back but a place to stand. It grows at 137.5° — the golden angle — the same mathematical ratio governing sunflower seeds, nautilus shells, and optimal leaf packing. Our P-001 protocol plants 233 yellowhorn trees at those exact intervals, in the language living systems already speak.
Its seed oil contains nervonic acid at concentrations rivaling shark liver oil — with documented applications in myelin sheath repair and neurological health. It is the most understudied high-value arid crop in the American Southwest, and Gaia Underground Labs is changing that.
The yellowhorn carries both male and female flowers on a single body. Drought-resistant. Nitrogen-fixing. It gives freely — oil, nitrogen, shade, medicine — and asks nothing back. Named for this tree, Yellowhorn Falls is built in the same spirit: patient with the roots, clear about the light, willing to wait.
Every protocol, every program, every year of the 144-year trust reflects that logic. Gaia Underground Labs is our research division, active in Luna County, New Mexico — investigating the yellowhorn's applications in arid agriculture, neuroscience, and community food sovereignty.
A dedicated page — science, ecology, and research. Coming as the protocols develop.
Community Partners & Sponsors
Our sponsors and partners are not just funders — they are the institutions that believed before the roots were visible. We are grateful and we ride with them.
Nusenda Credit Union
Founding Sponsor · $5,000
Nusenda Credit Union is Yellowhorn Falls' founding financial partner — rooted in New Mexico, committed to community, and among the first institutions to invest in this ecosystem. Their support makes our inaugural Node Cero community clinics possible.
Become a Founding Sponsor
We are actively building our sponsor family. If your organization believes in worker ownership, rural veterinary access, ecological research, or grief-grounded community care — there is a place for you here.
Start a Conversation →No 47-step forms. No bureaucratic maze.
The ecosystem is alive and building. There are many ways to be part of what lasts — whether you are a veterinary professional, a researcher, a funder, a community member, or someone who just knows this work is real. Send smoke signals from wherever you are.
We will get back to you. Hand to heart.
Our Kin
Who made us. Who we carry.
Socorrito "La Changa" Soler
November 27, 1951 — November 26, 2025
She left the party one day early — the night before her own birthday and her daughter's — because that's exactly the kind of dramatic, perfectly timed exit that only La Changa could pull off.
Socorrito Soler was born in the borderlands and never left its spirit, no matter where she went. She sewed Levi's in a factory and called the thrift store a boutique. She dressed like the Hamptons in a Juarez colonia. She made coconut ice cream from La Michoacana feel like a five-star dessert. She turned every pot of mole, every pot of caldo, every burrito de chile con queso into a love letter — because food was her first language and she was fluent in it completely.
She was a Guerrera. She met every hospital stay, every dialysis poke, every hard diagnosis with a beanie, a smile, and crackers for everyone. She didn't just turn on the lights — she was the fire in the center of the room.
Her last words to her daughter were a question: "Ya comió?" Even in her pain. Even at the end. Still checking if you were fed. Still loving in the only way she knew — completely, practically, without ceremony.
Her daughter put a silver daisy ring on her finger. She rubbed it with her thumb and index finger. Just like her daughter does.
They said their code: Al ratón. And she smiled.
She left knowing her Daisita was strong enough. She left knowing the pots would stay full. She left knowing the fire she lit would never go out.
La queremos, Changa. La vemos al ratón. Clarines que sí. 💛🌿
Mary Kay "Mimi" Morley
June 26, 1954 — March 17, 2025
Beloved mother, grandmother, and the reason we build.
Mimi worked at the University of New Mexico Hospital in Albuquerque for most of her life — showing up for others the way she showed up for everyone: quietly, consistently, and with something handmade in her hands.
She never forgot a birthday. Never missed a holiday. She had the card bought, signed, and ready to mail before the date even arrived. Her coworkers grieved her the way you grieve someone who made ordinary Tuesdays feel like they mattered — because she brought something small and handmade and specific to you, and you felt seen by it.
She made every meal special. She shared articles with her daughter about things that were important to her — recipes, ideas, the small things that say I was thinking of you. She sewed dog toys from old jeans. She had a rock collection. She had a sewing machine that still holds her hands in every stitch.
She laughed with her whole body and her whole soul. She was soft and fierce and funny simultaneously. She loved her grandchildren — especially one small particular boy named Calvin, who carries her in the way he moves through the world without knowing it.
She died on March 17, 2025. Her daughter Katherine grieved her without a community infrastructure designed to hold that grief — without affirming support, without spaces built for queer families in rural New Mexico navigating loss.
Yellowhorn Falls exists because of that absence. Every grief circle. Every family held. Every goodbye witnessed with dignity.
That is Mimi. Still showing up. Still bringing something handmade. Still making sure you felt seen. 🌙🌿
Flower "Mah Baby Flowah"
April 15, 2008 — January 4, 2022
Pure joy. Deep amber eyes. Always in the room.
Flower was a greyhound. She loved snoot boops, chikens, and zooming through Colorado snow like the ground couldn't hold her.
She roached in the sun. She lay by the fire. She carried her plushies everywhere — picking them up at the door like small offerings, bringing them to whoever she loved most in that moment. She had fluffy blankets she claimed completely and without apology.
She looked into your soul with deep amber brown eyes. Sometimes she judged what she found there. She was usually right. 😂
She was afraid of bird feathers. She was afraid of almost nothing else.
She came into this life at four weeks old with a broken leg and someone who showed up for her. She spent every day after that showing up for everyone else — making friends, making space, making the room warmer just by being in it.
She had a sister. Nelly — who was really a mother figure — gentle and steady and the kind of presence that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay.
They are together now. Running. Full speed. No broken legs. No bird feathers. Blankets everywhere.
The morning she was ready to go — she waited. She waited until her person was there. Then she let go. In her arms. The way it was always supposed to be.
The Flower Fund exists because of that morning. Because not every family gets that goodbye. Because every family deserves it.
We named the whole thing after her. She would have carried the plushie version of the logo everywhere. We're sure of it. 🌿🌙💛
