A Dog's Life in the Shenandoah

This Labor Day weekend the LTR and our two dogs, Ranger and Buster and I went to a primitive cabin the Shenandoah Mountains.

By primitive cabin I mean no phone, no lights, no running water, not to mention motor cars. For some reason we can never get any of our friends to go with us on one of these trips. For we usually go several times a year.

Both of our dogs have loved these trips. Each time we go we take a long hike each day, usually the longest one a 10-12 mile circuit hike.

Last year, the younger dog, Buster (8) began suffering from arthritis. With the help of medication he was still able to hike, though he lost a little steam at the end. Knowing his condition, we've been anticipating the day when he could no longer hike with us.

But Ranger -- the older dog, now 13 -- was amazing. Last year on even the longest hikes she would zoom past us on the trail, turn around and zip back, coming to a cold stop and look at us like, C'mon already, get moving!


So it was something of a shock to us when she greeted the trail this time with an attitude that looked more like determination and less like carefree abandon of the open trail.

We were foolish -- we thought we were giving a concession to our dog's age by planning only a seven mile hike for the big hike. We were way off, as it turns out. She was fine for the first couple of miles. By the middle of mile three it was clear she was struggling. We slowed the pace considerably but in the end had to carry her out the last mile -- and actually cut our hike short and the LTR and the dogs stayed at the trail head at Skyline Drive while I hiked another two miles on the Appalachian Trail to get the jeep to come back and pick them up. Then we had to carry her the mile hike in from the parking lot back to the Cabin.

Today, she is better and walked out under her own power for the mile trek back to the car and then home.

But the LTR and I are shook up. We've known she was 13 and old in dog years for some time. But she has not acted 13 or old until now. It seems the long Indian Summer of her life is coming to an end and the winter of old age is here.

Today, before packing up and heading home, the LTR and I took a hike while the dogs stayed at the cabin. It's the first time we've hit the trail without our companions. We knew we had to take those steps toward accepting the new reality. We left our tears on the trail.

In this world of woe there are many tragedies and this is not one of them. But (to steal from Robert Frost), today I was to taste in little, the grief, that comes from a dog's life being too brief.

Sunset view from our cabin, 9/2/06