Beside Every Great Woman...

Monday mornings at work consistently contained the sharing of our weekend nature stories. Zoe told of off-roading in her Jeep to find a trail for her dog Otis and herself to take. Kaitlyn spoke of hardcore backpacking—ten or fifteen miles hike in the woods, setting up camp, and staying the night under the stars. And I contributed stories of where Tucker and I found forests of non-varying elevation in this vast desert landscape.

With the show winding down and only a few weeks left before we parted ways, Zoe planned for the ladies of Longmire accounting to get together with their canine companions at Fenton Lake in Jemez. More of a walkabout than a hike, as the only trail was a few miles long, we met up at the country store last weekend for one adventure all together.

​Kaitlyn arrived first with her Corgi-Chihuahua Belle, who boasted a sixteen mile hike the weekend before. Zoe arrived with her Rottweiler mix Otis, who sniffed the air from the back of the open Jeep. Elizabeth and Addaline were the last to arrive. Although they had never hiked, this little Cairn Terrier mix had the most amount of consistent exercise. Elizabeth got up every morning to make a three mile round trip journey to the Plaza for coffee. I never thought to do such a thing, as for me the coffee would only be needed due to the early morning rising.
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The dogs all met; Tucker being the most excited since he’s been without much social engagement for the past couple of months. Otis and Tucker were well-matched. We had gone to visit Zoe and Otis in Albuquerque a few weekends before, but Tucker spent the hour-long play session staring at cats he couldn’t get at inside rather than visiting with the dog I had brought him to hang out with. Despite all the dogs’ size difference, they all got along well and were ready for whatever adventure was in store.

​Two big boys, two little girls, and four thirty-something (okay, one was just under the mark by a year) women got into their cars and caravanned up the mountain to Fenton Lake.
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The lake itself was teeming with people: mostly families and friends around picnics, individuals fishing in the lake and a few trucks parked up near campsites.

​We walked along the lake, Tucker balking at the leash trying to take it all in at once, overexcited to not just be hiking, but be sharing the experience with some of his own kind. I always wonder how Tucker experiences a hike. Obviously he and I see the same things, but he takes in so much more in scents, and observes so much more that he can’t express to me. Finally, he could hear or smell something and have someone to turn to and say, “Did you catch that?”

​As we walked along the path which followed a stream and then passed through a meadow, we humans talked about our dogs. 

​Despite their physical differences, they had one thing in common: they had all done time. Or rather, all but one had done some stint in the shelter system. Addaline was the only one who had been spared that experience. Elizabeth had been walking along Venice Beach one day about five years ago when she saw a man selling puppies out of a box. The puppies were loud and playful—all except one who cowered inside the man’s dufflebag too terrified to move. She feared that the man would not sell her and she’d end up in the shelter. Elizabeth paid the man for the pup with the intention of fostering her, building her confidence, and finding her a home. Elizabeth was true to word: she found Addaline a home—with her. Falling in love always takes you by surprise: that’s why it’s calling “falling.” If we saw it coming, we’d probably step around it.

​Expert hiker Belle was found by Kaitlyn at the local shelter less than a year ago. The day Kaitlyn took her home, Belle trembled in fear at everything. It’s hard to imagine this little Corgi-Chi not being confident. Upon meeting Tucker, she gave him a growl to set him straight, and he respected her wishes. She lives in a house of big dogs, so she tells them like it is, holds her own, and expects to be treated no differently (except for the obvious perks of weighing less than twenty pounds.)

​Otis only joined Zoe about a year ago as well. Zoe had seen Otis’ profile and knew this was her dog. Her first dog of her adulthood, she chose a loving, loyal companion who wants nothing more than to please her. 

​I was hoping that since Otis lived with cats, he could convince Tucker that cats aren’t so bad. But just as with children’s influence on each other, we don’t get to choose what habits our dogs pick up from their friends. Tucker saw the value in Otis’s digging holes in dirt to lie in them and Otis really liked the way Tucker kicked his feet after taking a shit. So now our dogs’ worst habits have been passed on.

​While the dogs psychically chatted, we humans used our limited senses to enjoy the views. 

The trail ended where the edge of Fenton Lake’s state property did, but a small fence that was easily walked around led to the Santa Fe National Forest. Not wanting our walk to end, we entered federal lands.
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Not too far in, we discovered what appeared to be an old camp—equipped with fire pit, mess hall (which was disappointingly locked), restrooms (also locked) and platforms for tents. 

​This far off from civilization, the dogs were released from their leashes—all but Tucker. As we tried recall games, it was evident why: Tucker was too busy experiencing the location to be bothered by what I wanted to do. I put him on his long 50 foot lead and allowed him to explore (or just lie in the hole Otis dug) which kept me from fearing he’d run off into the woods and never come back.

​Although it took many tries and four women coordinating four dogs, we got their photo together.

Looking at these dogs, in their diversity and their similarities, I noted that an old adage needed an update. The phrase: “Behind every great man is a great woman” no longer applies. No great woman I know would ever stand behind anyone else; she takes center stage. But we don’t always stand alone. So I offer this:

“Beside every great woman is a great dog.”

​No one knows what these four canines went through before they entered our lives. Otis had mange, was weak and skinny from living on the streets. Belle was terrified. Tucker was probably still trying to understand how things had gone wrong and hopefully never knew how close he came to losing his life at the shelter. And here they are today: four confident, joyful, loyal pups who stand beside their women in all situations: whether it be in the face of adversity or the beginning of an adventure. Love and Nature, one in the same, have extraordinary healing powers.

​It’s not where you go in life; it’s who you’re with that makes the difference. For us, we struck life’s jackpot: each with a four-legged loyal companion to stand, walk, and run beside us no matter what the terrain and how bad the weather gets. And even luckier to have met one another and walked a little on this road together for even just a short time. 

​For now we take our own trails, but hope that one day we’ll meet again on the forest’s edge and walk a few miles together. If that never comes to pass, we still have the knowledge that when we tread earth miles from civilization and look out across the vista, that there are others like us out there, standing with our loyal partners looking out at the horizon, lone wolves shouting out a psychic howl in the distance assured they will always be heard.