Kelsy's Day Off
A dog ran off in panic because of a startling noise while hiking on the Glacier View Trail near Mt. Rainier. I advised the dog's owner that her dog would probably return to the parking lot when things got quiet. The owner was unable to stay overnight, but she came back early in the morning. She was out of cell phone service, so Kelsy and I started driving that way in case we were needed to search for the lost dog. When we reached the forest road leading to the trail head, the dog was sleeping peacefully in the car. The owner had walked the trail, talking in a normal tone of voice, and then returned to her car in the lot. As she sat there listening to a podcast on her phone, her dog walked up. She opened the door, and the dog had jumped in, ready to go home. Since Kelsy and I were already there, just nine miles from the trail, I decided we deserved a break.
Kelsy and Porter and Tess and I used to hike all over the Cascades and Olympics, before we started searching for lost pets. In the seven years we have been doing this work, I have not taken a vacation, and Kelsy and I have not had a chance to hike in the wilderness. This was a perfect day. I had my camera with me, and Kelsy and I set out in search of a good stick and a place to play fetch. Not far along the trail, I found the most amazing rock. Tree roots had grown through the slab of rock and cracked it. When the tree fell, its roots pried the stone from the ground and hoisted it into the air. Better than any sculpture by the hands of man, my photo does not fully capture the perfection of this rock and roots. Kelsy waited patiently as I tried to capture the beauty of the rock, which meant nothing to her.
Kelsy and Porter and Tess and I used to hike all over the Cascades and Olympics, before we started searching for lost pets. In the seven years we have been doing this work, I have not taken a vacation, and Kelsy and I have not had a chance to hike in the wilderness. This was a perfect day. I had my camera with me, and Kelsy and I set out in search of a good stick and a place to play fetch. Not far along the trail, I found the most amazing rock. Tree roots had grown through the slab of rock and cracked it. When the tree fell, its roots pried the stone from the ground and hoisted it into the air. Better than any sculpture by the hands of man, my photo does not fully capture the perfection of this rock and roots. Kelsy waited patiently as I tried to capture the beauty of the rock, which meant nothing to her.
We didn't cover much ground because I had to stop and take so many pictures. Eventually, we came to a large meadow, the perfect place to play fetch, and Kelsy and I hunted for the perfect stick. A sun dog hung in the sky, in wispy clouds, a tiny rainbow that persisted for the whole time Kelsy and I visited this pure space. At the south end of the meadow, a thicket of huckleberries with fading leaves surrounded a carpet of moss. I did not step into that perfect space, but I imagined kneeling there. Kelsy and I walked up the slope to the southwest and found a branch that had fallen. Kelsy bit at the stick as I broke it down to throwing size. We returned to the meadow. It was quiet. It was a quiet I hadn't experienced in years, no whirring computer fans, no distant jets, no cars or chainsaws or leaf blowers. No notification beeps or dings from my phone. No voices, no words. I took Kelsy's collar and leash off and tossed them into the grass. Looking north, I saw nothing but a vast meadow and a black dog, no sign of anything man-made. I raised the stick, and Kelsy barked. Her voice filled that space, echoing off the nearby mountain. I threw Kelsy's stick, and she ran into the field like a puppy. Kelsy is not a puppy any more. She is ten years old, and Kelsy and I have shared so many great experiences with our work, our adventures, and the normal routines of life. I know that someday I will lose Kelsy, hopefully not for many years. I must outlive her. When she leaves me, I want to have these experiences, these moments. She will live on in me. Among the many great days that I will remember, this early autumn day in the wilderness, with 10-year-old Kelsy acting like a puppy on her day off, this will be my treasure.
On the long drive home, the freeway was closed because of a fatal accident. Someone's collection of experiences ended that day. My phone told me it would take three hours to travel the last 15 miles home, so Kelsy and I stopped at Steel Lake for a swim. Well, she swam while I threw her favorite ball. When the day was done, I had to lift Kelsy into bed because she was too sore and tired from the day's exertion to make the jump herself. We had set out that morning to help a lost dog, but we spent most of the day celebrating the dogness of Kelsy and stowing away an experience that will sustain me some day when costs and losses mount.
I love you, Kelsy. Thank you for being.
On the long drive home, the freeway was closed because of a fatal accident. Someone's collection of experiences ended that day. My phone told me it would take three hours to travel the last 15 miles home, so Kelsy and I stopped at Steel Lake for a swim. Well, she swam while I threw her favorite ball. When the day was done, I had to lift Kelsy into bed because she was too sore and tired from the day's exertion to make the jump herself. We had set out that morning to help a lost dog, but we spent most of the day celebrating the dogness of Kelsy and stowing away an experience that will sustain me some day when costs and losses mount.
I love you, Kelsy. Thank you for being.
