Is nature ever not beautiful? My dogs and I have created a well worn path along the Bitterroot River from the morning walks that we take nearly every day throughout the year. Should we not tire of the same scenery over and over again? Ah, but that’s nature’s secret. It never really is the same. Little changes accumulate into transformed forests. Rivers flood and ebb and creep across valley floors carving new channels, building new beaches and sand bars, bringing new detritus from upstream. Each morning’s cloud cover, down pouring rain, soft falling snow, low hanging fog, or brilliant hot sun all cast different shadows, gather or diffuse the light, and paint with varying color pallets. These every changing features combined with the ever changing tilt of the earth and its seasonal cycles of the plants and animals ensure the each day is a unique display of nature’s endless dynamic jigsaw puzzle.
Yesterday’s morning brought a dusting of fresh snow and some thin, low wispy fog. The western Bitterroot Mountains were completely shrouded, while the Sapphires were back light with the rising sun. The dark bark of the big weeping willows and cottonwood trees stood out against the gray. The first direct rays from the sun highlighted the yellows and tans of the cattails along the marsh. Everything was quiet, pensive, and unhurried.
As I stopped to take a few photos, my two canine companions did as they always do when their games and fun are interrupted. They tried to patiently stand at attention, with Jewel guarding her ball and Kola keeping an eye out for any movement. But a couple of minutes seems a hour to them. Soon they were staring me down with that “let’s get going look”; and when that didn’t work, Jewel merely sat beside her ball.
The silence and the heavy sky keep my feet planted. Then my eyes and my mind looked directly at them and brought into clear focus my two wonderful little canine friends. A moment later, echos of the conversation that Sterling and I had with our friend Larry during Sunday’s Superbowl floated within mind’s reach. Larry and his family had recently lost their long time dog, Jessie. The family was still grieving – and frankly wondering if Jessie’s death might signal a new dogless chapter in their lives. Their daughter soon graduates from high school and will be spreading her wings, setting her course for collage. They are, like Sterling and me, older parents who are well past retirement age as they face their soon to be empty nest. Visions of traveling and freedom, downsizing their home, and crossing off the items in their respective bucket lists, as well as allergy issues, compete with and complicate the idea of rolling out the welcome mat for another dog.
My own mind can’t grasp that concept – life without a dog. I have lived with a dog every year of my life, save the three years that Sterling and I lived in Chile. I am not even sure who I would be sans dogs. Dogs has been a central part of nearly every aspect of my life – where I live, where, when, and how I recreate, who I married. While not really a “dog person”, Sterling knew that it was a package deal – me and my dogs. And he has embraced their presence in our lives.
Dogs have keep me going when I wanted to give in to despair, depression or simple laziness. They pushed me physically and kept me in shape to survive many serious medical challenges. Dogs have listened to rile about injustices – both real and perceived. Warm fur, soft eyes, and wagging tails have helped me emerge from grief, failure, and shame. They always take my side in any argument; they fend off any stranger who might look cruelly in my direction. They welcome my friends and they taught my new born babies the wonders of the animal world. May a day never come for me when I must be without a dog.
I hope to end all my days in much the same way I currently end some of my days right now – sitting in the warmth of my living room with my feet up, snuggling with my two beautiful dogs, conversing with my wonderful husband, and watching Downton Abbey. It’s my plan – and I’m sticking to it.