So, I Got A Dog...

I missed my walks. I was used to walking through the Mountain Park near my house several times a week. I looked for the wildflowers in the warm months and watched for footprints in the snow in the cold. I gazed at the tops of hundred-foot pine trees, and I kicked rocks down the road. My fuzzy companion kept pace, stopping now and then to smell a bush or pee on a tree stump. Unfortunately, Cole Dog died. The little black dog that walked with me every day got old and tired, and I had to say good-bye. He was gone.

I didn't walk very often after that. I live in the Rocky Mountains. We have mountain lions, bears, deer, skunks, foxes, and so many other wild neighbors that I didn't feel safe walking alone. I wandered around the yard. I walked on the main road, but I didn't go explore the quiet trails or seek the elusive wildflowers that grow between the high boulders. I didn't venture out in the snow to look for tracks. I missed my walks.

So, I adopted a dog.

Max is a wild, out of control border collie, lab, retriever mutt. Max didn't do walks; he had dragging sessions! I put the leash on him and was promptly dragged across the yard and into a tree. I was dragged through the creek, I was dragged through the snow, I was dragged, well you get the picture. We did not go for walks in a normal, relaxed sense.

It took a year of being dragged, several injuries, and lots of dog biscuits, but Max learned to walk. I was able to explore the trails again. I was able to go up into the hills, far from the road, the traffic, and other people and wander around. I turned Max loose, and he provided the advance guard, barking madly at the bears, the deer, and anything else that moved. I didn't see as many animals, but I felt safe.

Now we have a nice routine. Max drags me to the trail head near our house, and then I let him run. This frees me up to look for flowers, sit on a boulder, watch the little birds, listen to the wind in the treetops, and fill my pocket with bright colored pebbles. I have time to sing, say my prayers to the Creator, and feel my body moving with strength from step to step. I have time to look for feathers, watch bugs ambling along among the weeds, or track the path of a butterfly. In the cold wintertime, I look for tracks in the snow, marvel at the pure sparkle of an icicle hanging from a branch, or collect snowflakes on my tongue.

All my walks are filled with gratitude. Gratitude that I live in such a beautiful corner of the Creator's world. Gratitude for my fuzzy companion. Gratitude for the flowers, birds, rocks, and wildlife. Gratitude for my health, my ability to walk, my voice, my hearing. Gratitude for life and all the ups and downs that entails.

When Max and I get home, we are tired. His tongue hangs out, and he is ready for a nap. I am grateful for my comfy chair and a glass of clear water.

I feel so free after my walk. My spirit soars, my heart sings, my body relaxes, my mind stops worrying.

I really missed my walks. I am grateful that I found Max, the crazy out of control mutt that watches my back so I can relax and explore the world around me.