A long luscious dog walk in the forest. Truly, without a big dog, I would never make sure, come hell or high water, that I would get out into the woods and walk and walk and walk. Every day . And laugh and breathe deeply. And be present. With each change in season.
We begin with 5, meet up with two humans and three dogs; then two more humans with three dogs . All sizes. 10 dogs. Some altercations and a learning curve. But each time, everybody is a little more at ease. Understands each other a tiny bit more .
Then off we go,my friend and her 4 dog pack, and my one younger one.
AT the ruff of the Malemute mix til the bigger boy takes him down.
Racing and wrestling and rolling upon the ground; then -good dogs! Good dogs! -
as the lot of them race back to sit politely for a treat.
Over and over, as we hike under the fallen trees and past the bustling stream, with hot panting dogs lying in it to cool down, lapping the clean water happily .
My young one learning the ways of a pack. A small sweet dog more dominant , who kisses him hello, after almost a year of walks, finally accepting his older more polite self; then snapping with a growl , to teach him to keep his distance while she gets her treat.
And like us, he learns . He wants to learn. He wants to belong and be understood and feel protected by the older wiser ones, and they all keep him in check, training him,
as I cuddle them and hand out treats, while we make our way, nice and tired, back down the darkening forest , to go our separate directions , and head for home.
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