Showed up in my snail mail last week. The donation was made by Isa’s day care. If you get a chance, check out Kindred Spirits – it’s a pretty amazing outfit. http://www.kindredspiritsnm.org/
I hope I am lucky enough to be half as loved as she was.
peace
I’ve been writing Isa’s story off and on in a little notebook I have. As often as not I end up in a puddle but that’s my “new normal” so it is what it is. I really haven’t gotten further than her “gotcha” day. I suppose it can considered progress that I’ve moved from the end to the beginning of her story. Her bed is still where it always has been, her food bowl in place. I put her harness back on the dining room chair – I moved it after the first contractor I met with asked me if I had a giant gerbil. (WT …?) I’m working up to putting her harness up from grabs here but I’m not quite ready. I consider it progress that I took her collar out of the drawer and set it next to her ashes. I was careful not to let the tags jingle – that would be too much. She hated being without her collar, always visibly relieved when I buckled it back on.
But that’s my story.
Today the memory floated up to the top of my brain of her playing tug of war with an acquaintance’s yorkie terrier, at best all of three pounds. The yorkie won, pretty much every time. Isa loved the game more than the subject stuffed hedgehog and allowed the yorkie to “pull” her forward. I’ve never seen anything like it.
That’s a quickie story and sadly no pictures.
So how about the story of our hike to Wheeler’s Peak (Taos, NM), must have been in 2012 early summer since there are pockets of snow around. Trail head is at 10,000 feet with just over a 3,000 elevation gain over 6.2 miles one way. What was I thinking? The first leg to Williams Lake is easy, a mile or so, and flat, relatively speaking. We hung out at the lake for a while – Isa is all about playing in the water.
Then we started up. And up. And up. The view(s) are spectacular.
That bluish shiny spot down there, only barely seen behind/between the trees? That’s the lake.
I’m sad to say we didn’t make it all the way to the top, largely because I’m a giant chicken. In my defense I was feeling the altitude: my legs were being very grumpy and complaining about a lack of oxygen, it was cold and windy the higher we got, and the trail was nothing more than loose rocks and a long-ass way down. Exhibit A:
But the biggest reason? A certain dog continually disappeared down the mountain, hidden among the rocks, investigating who knows what. And she certainly was not responding to my call and her hearing has been known to be “selective.” There is a chance she could not hear me – the wind was blowing the “wrong” direction. She probably did that 3,000 feet of elevation gain at least twice over. This was on the way up, at our lunch break, before the “disappearing dog” game began:
She was dragging doggy butt that last mile from the lake back to the car and I don’t think she moved again until the next morning. Well, except for dinner of course. One must maintain one’s meal schedule regardless of fatigue level.
We had lots of good hikes (and snowshoes) over the years. Wheeler’s Peak was easily our most ambitious. My preference is to putter along and enjoy the scenery without bodily damage. Being all dog, Isa always did three to four times my mileage. For that matter our regular neighborhood walks were power walks on my part. I could only barely keep up with her – she didn’t walk anywhere, it was always a trot. Except of course when it was necessary to stop and pee on something. Better still finding something edible (her definition, not mine) – thank goodness she had a cast iron stomach.
So that’s today’s story. More as I am able.
Hugs!
