I’ve been having some body work (work on my body that is) done by a very gifted osteopath, subtle little pushes here and there that leave me feeling relief from aches and pains I have had for far too long. It seemed logical to go for some long walks afterwards. Let everything swing loose, do what humans used to do all day. There’s a lot of buzz these days that “sitting is killing us” and I guess it is having an impact on my thinking.
One of the walks was the loop around Heron Pond. It’s conservation land, with some rules,
but no canine prohibition. It’s a place we walked a lot a couple years ago, but fell out of the habit. Time to be more vigilant about keeping the walks long, varied, and interesting for both of us.
Chico’s not quite as wild in the woods as he was four years ago, but he still loves to stop and sniff or retreat into the bush to poop and then gallop to catch up. Seeing him run gives me such pleasure. Here’s a few seconds of it:
He takes a joint supplement every day, so do I, we’re both well into our middle-age years. As long as Chico can gallop with abandon, those white hairs on his face (like the ones on my head) are just biology, right? We’ll keep moving and because of that, we’ll keep moving.
Another day, we walked a few miles on Great Hill Road. It’s more or less flat, there are some great views, not a lot of traffic, close to home; and we haven’t done the walk for a few weeks (or months?).
It was a strong smell of something like rotting meat. And before that thought really sank in, my dear dog found whatever it was and rubbed his neck all through it. Eeeee-uuuwww. Stinky guy. Bet he wonders why I don’t like him very much when he has so obviously found such a treasure. Probably enough there to feed both of us, dinner on him this time, and what does his human do? Turn up her nose and call him away. Go figure, these humans are just plain crazy, real resource wasters.*
Bear hunting season has started, that’s why Chico is wearing orange. It’s not a big concern until deer season starts, but it’s never too soon to start dressing for fall. Now, if I could remember to get out my orange vest.
This coming weekend offers two very different agility opportunities for us. On Saturday the agility club I belong to (hey, there’s another change Chico made in my life, I don’t think I have joined anything since Brownie Scouts in 1965, where I lasted about one year) is having our annual picnic with food, and games, and grooming, and portrait sessions – we’re going. The next day we’re playing USDAA agility in North Smithfield, RI, with courses from one of my favorite judges, Lisa Barrett. I’ll let you know how it all goes.
*This line of thinking is inspired by recently reading If a Dog’s Prayers Were Answered…Bones Would Rain From the Sky by Suzanne Clothier. Wow, what an inspiring read that was for someone who wants to understand her dog.