If I can be out in nature, I’m content. At peace. Calm. Happy. Include a canine buddy and life is good. No, it’s great. Studies show that pets and nature help decrease the stress in your life and add to your overall well-being. I’m convinced this is true. You see it goes back to my days with Patty. When she arrived at our house when I was five I was pretty certain that this beautiful shepherd/collie/husky mix with a wonderful demeanor was put on this Earth to be my guardian and my companion. We became fast friends and by the time I was nine we had a daily walking ritual. After the school day ended and I finished my homework, I grabbed the leash and waited until Patty settled down before I clicked the leash onto her collar. We walked three blocks down to where we crossed over a main road into an open field with a creek. After getting far enough down the trail, I waited until she sat, and then unleashed her. Each and every time I watched her bound off through the tall grass, a huge smile crossed my face, I took in a deep breath of the air coming off of the bay, and relaxed. Sounds funny for a nine-year-old needing to relax, but our house was chaotic and this place, with Patty’s constant companionship, saved me day after day. I often stayed out there wandering the paths or just sitting up on the hillside watching the sun sink into the horizon until I knew it was time for dinner. Patty trotted along with me or rested her head in my lap. Just writing this makes me miss her terribly. I know she brought sanity to an insane world for me.
There have been others to follow. Yala and Kadi belonged to Dennis, the first man I could see living a lifetime with. When I first met Kadi, a wild looking thing, like a small coyote, she zoomed around the yard crazily, and Dennis said this had only happened once before. I think she may have just sensed a true dog lover with an adventurous spirit. It wasn’t long before I had both dogs out on the high desert trails around Reno where we lived at the time, or in the Mt. Shasta region where I would take them for road trips, or on the regional park trails close to the Berkeley area where we eventually moved. I was mountain biking by this time, and it was fun to have them running with me or meeting me on the trail after they had gone exploring. I had a life changing experience just a few years before, and was still feeling the repercussions of it, so the time I spent alone with the pups was very therapeutic. Their quiet, constant companionship was soothing as I made sense of my thoughts and emotions. Even after Dennis and I had parted ways and I moved to Oakland, I picked them up for rides or hikes because it just didn’t feel right to not have a dog or two nearby. They enjoyed being out there just as much as I did, and I missed the camaraderie. They also kept me connected to Dennis, who has been a good friend for a number of years.
Next came Cody. Oh Mr. Cody. I often called him “best dog ever.” Everyone said that he was a little person. I think he was. He seemed to understand everything. That dog still has my heart. He belonged to James, the man that I did commit to live a lifetime with. Cody was about eight when I first met him, and was a strong, wiry dog that was a lab/boxer mix. Since we had moved to the Sacramento area and eventually the Sierra Foothills, Cody and I spent a lot of time on mountainous trails in areas where we saw no one else for hours, or even for an entire day. I worked from home quite a bit, so we had our ritual. Breakfast, some phone calls, answer a few emails, and then we were off. Since Cody had already spent much of his life in rugged outdoor areas with James, he had become a skilled climber and hiker. He often lead the way, or if he wasn’t sure that he could follow me, he would run around looking for a way to get up and over or through whatever might be an obstacle. Once again, I think this dog came into my life to be a companion/guardian when I most needed one. James and I divorced and in the tough early days, and just after the split, Cody seemed to be the only thing that kept me going. I needed those walks with him. Eventually, circumstances didn’t allow for Cody to live with me, but I would pick him up at least once or twice a month for a day out together until he died this past spring. I still look at the photos of our last time together on a trail overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
