Dixie has spoken. These musings are no longer categorized as a blog. Rather, it is a “dlog.” Every canine with a laptop sit up and take notice. This one’s for you.
The desert sun wastes no time warming the summer landscape so Dixie and I opted for a hike at dawn. Dixie is in her element when exploring the web of trails around Prescott. Today’s quest was Thumb Butte on the west end of town. My mother, a flat lander from Kansas, refers to it as “Thumb Butt.” Hardly dignified for such a majestic peak sculpted of granite and textured by the elements over several millenium.
The 1,500 foot climb is worthy of a stout heart so I knew Dixie would be up to the task. We ogled to the east overlooking the city once we reached the crest before heading back down. Tourists and locals alike marveled at the grit of a three-legged mountain climbing dog. Dixie lapped up every word as though it were prime rib.
Dixie elicits two reactions of opposite extremes. The first is one of inspiration. Many times a curious onlooker will power down their window as they pass and yell “awesome dog!” The other reaction is one of pity. “Awwwww, poor doggie.” Watch this dog run agility, visit hospital patients, or blaze a trail. Does she look — well — pitiful? I think not. “Poor doggie” is the Yorkie trapped inside a $500 leather handbag while his affluent owner shops the trendy stores on 5th Avenue.
If you are truly in relationship with your dog, you vacillate somewhere between parent and best friend. You understand that this highly evolved creature is in tune with your emotions but is also a thinking, sentient creature needing stimulation of both mind and body. You realize there are times when you have to set boundaries and apply consequences much like a parent would with a toddler. But then there are those days that her mere presence warms even the darkest reaches of your soul. And there are those times when your touch calms and soothes after an an unexpected clap of thunder.
Rabbits, rodents, fish, and reptiles are pets. Dogs (OK, cats too) are family.
My son took this picture of Thumb Butte -- not bad, eh?
