He’s lumpy, his skin hangs loose on him and rolls from side to side as he runs, he smells funny, he can’t really see much more than shapes through a fog and his bark sounds a bit groggy but he’s a member of the family and he has always loved a good bike ride. In his mind, he’s still a puppy, prancing and making goofy noises when the urge to play strikes. In his mind, he’s still a teenager who can run miles in front of the bike, taking side trips to sniff out squirrels and chase rabbits. In his mind, he’s in his prime, strong, handsome and capable of anything. When he sees me getting ready for a hike, he thinks about it now. Sometimes he’s enthusiastically pushing out the door; sometimes deciding to stay lying by the fire or at dad’s feet. In the early pre-dawn light, I now attach a headlight to his collar so he can see the trail and attach a rear light to my pack so he can see me, but still, I have to pay attention so that he doesn’t wander off after something and lose the trail. He definitely slows down the progress but he’s a great reminder to live life to the fullest because it moves by much too quickly.
He’s always up for a bike ride and doesn’t seem to remember that he’s sore for a couple of days after exerting himself that way. He does much better in cooler temperatures and when we load up the bikes to go to find a cooler, high country elevation to ride in, he’s a puppy again, imagining himself leaping up into the truck (although it has taken strategic boosts from us to get in for years now). He’s panting with anticipation, excitement and mainly from a bit of exhaustion caused by momentarily going back to puppyhood in an old man’s body.When we arrive, he’s out and ready! A bit of a gallop right off the starting line, excess skin rolling comically from side to side, a teenage prance in his step and joy on his face. A hundred yards later, it’s down to a walk-trot and we ride down the road; Max, the kid, is in the front, leading the way with cheetah-like leaps, dad following, Loki, ever the careful businessman, taking his time and not wasting a bit of excess energy until a squirrel shows its face or gives a squeak as we go by. Odie, the old man comes next, focusing on where he’s headed and me in the back, giving the old guy a chance to feel “not last”. He gives up when he’s last so we let him think he’s faster than last. Faster than last keeps us peddling at a walking pace and is great bike handling practice. It’s much harder to get over even small obstacles when you’ve got nearly zero momentum! Walking might be easier, but in the old dog’s mind, the presence of bikes plays a role in letting him feel he is running with the bikes, adventuring into the wild as in the old days.
I’m riding along as the caboose and my mind takes time to wander. As I look about and watch our old man loving his “run” and pushing his aging body to turn back time, I think about the millions of years of living things that have passed by and the millions of years to come. At one time, before tectonic uplift, this area was an inland sea with untold prehistoric creatures inhabiting the depths. At one time this area was a violently active volcanic field with erupting cinder comes in every direction. At one time this old rotting log was a seedling sprouting in a previous rotting log. At one time this old rotting log was an enormous stately mature tree with turkeys roosting in it and a native hunter resting in its shade. This rotting log is now home to multitudes of living things from insects to mosses, sprouting new saplings and fungi. It’s a snacking perch for squirrels and will eventually become more of the rich organic soil that surrounds it. I feel humbled by this old log and feel like a tiny blip of matter in this living, evolving ecosystem. Something about this line of thinking makes me feel completely connected and calm. Pedaling, thinking, taking pictures of things that amaze me: this is why we get out of our busy lives and take time to slow down to old dog speed. I wonder, does he know that one day it will be his last run in the woods, or does he just live day to day and hour to hour? Is that what makes us “different” from the animals? The fact that we know there was something before us and there will be something after us?
After about two miles, the old guy is beginning to tire. His trot turns to a walk and he’s seeking every mud puddle for an excuse to lie down. He won’t stop on the trail; that would be too much for his stubborn old man pride, but chilling in a mud puddle is totally within the rights of any respectable dog. His stops become longer and we are barely moving on our bikes but it’s ok. He’s loving it and he deserves it. I look up between the trees and see the grey clouds scudding across an opening in the tree canopy. A gentle misty rain begins to fall and at this speed, the green, wet forest becomes a magical fairyland. Budding mosses cover every stump and log, wildflowers and grasses fill every section of ground and we smell a bear which has passed through. I notice a mosquito which has landed on my arm and watch its tiny abdomen fill with blood- I figure it already bit me so might as well watch it! Squirrels are chattering and birds chirping. I see an enormous squirrel midden and wonder how many generations of squirrels it took to create this impressive pile of pine cone flakes. How many decades have gone by since the first pair of squirrels decided to inhabit that tree? How many squirrel kits took their first steps to the outside on this pile? How many became food for hawks, owls and coyotes?
The young dogs are racing back and forth, smelling, seeing and feeling the freedom out here. They have no concern for the slow progress of the old man but I know if push came to shove, they would not leave him and would come to his aide if something happened. They keep us in sight and I know they are aware of our every move. We are their pack, their family and ultimately their world. They are probably close to the last puppies we will welcome into our family because although it is hard to have a dog pass on, it would be harder still to worry that they might outlive you and lose the only family they have known. In the future, when these dogs have completed their journeys, we will probably adopt older dogs planning for the eventuality that will assuredly come to pass, but for now, being out in the woods erases age, erases worries and lets all of us just be out playing like pups in the miracle that is life on earth. Get out there and enjoy life as part of the whole tableau living things over of time which uniquely separates our Earth from the other planets in our solar system. We are all part of this miraculous evolution from the first cells to the last creatures still to come, all joined by one commonality: life.
