Finding Winter

Winter here in the West has not been, by a skier’s standards, the finest. But nonetheless, we’ve foundĀ  cold and snow, sporadically, with effort, and with great bouts of spring-time warmth in between. In a forest service cabin, on the mountainside, in the depths of Cooke City. It’s been a winter of mourning for a hound dog that kept pace by my side for fifteen years, and so I must say that everything in this landscape feels slightly off, tainted with grief–both mine and others.

But this is life, and mountains, and climate change. And you carry on, and you look for the glimmers.

You stare at photos as if they might be all that’s left, but the truth is they’re just a metaphor for what stirs your heart.

picture of the dog

Rest in peace, dear Tucker.

 

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Storm Survival

Snow raging in the high country today, with high avalanche danger. Down in the valley, rain prevails. But dog sitting for a border collie is a good motivator for a walk, hood cinched tight.

I Threw a Party for My Dog

I wasn’t sure we’d see this one, so we celebrated a sweet, long life with a 14th birthday party for the old lion hound. This was the scene at the end of the night after elk steak, treats, bones, howling, and friends. Party hound. (He was veritably hung over the following morning.)

Keep Away

When the hunter returns with a grouse, he brings a wing for the old hound dog. Found: happy dog hiding in the bedroom with his prize.