Elixir of hope, strength, and joy

This photo is a big improvement - all four paws are on the ground, including the one with an amputated toe! K seems to be in less pain today, which lightens my heart a bit.

I wonder what dogs think about pain. I have pain every single day, and that's been true for 20 years due to my degenerating spine. For years, I fought to annihilate the pain. I thought that if I could find the right doctor with the magical solution, s/he could make me pain-free forever.

Those years were unhappy because I was seeking something that I could never find. Since then, I've adopted a "mindfulness" attitude toward my pain. I note it. I catalog it to see if it's anything new or alarming. If it's familiar pain, I just let it be. It accompanies me all the time, on bike rides, hikes, naps, during blogging - literally all the time - but I no longer fight it. This attitude has turned around my life, literally, from one of running from or battling with pain to seeing it as an integral part of my life.

I wonder what K thinks about it? She's been resting a lot and seems subdued but not upset. I think that she's just laying low and healing. I doubt that she dwells on the pain.

On our walk this morning, she seemed more engaged with me and with the forest than yesterday, alert and noting the scents and sounds. I love our little morning strolls. It's just me and my sweet chocolate girl, walking side-by-side, and investigating the nuances of our forest.

After my walk with K, I headed out for snowbiking. It's a whole new season of rolling through white powdery stuff rather than over packed dirt. One of my wildlife cams caught a photo of me descending a steep and snowy slope. I just placed this cam in this new spot because no one but me and the animals visits this area in the snow of winter!

Another wildlife camera captured a magpie. Someone mentioned that they'd never seen one before my photographs yesterday. This photo accentuates the magpie's most distinctive feature - a tail that is longer than his body.

Then, last night, a mule deer buck peeked into the same clearing. Based on some quick research on mule deer antlers, that buck's pair is impressive! He didn't stay long - he just peeked and ran - probably chasing a doe!

Today on my snow bike ride, I repeated some of the same paths as yesterday to take advantage of my packed down tracks. I was the only one, aside from wildlife, who had marred the smooth untracked snow since last week. I love peace and solitude, and I can find plenty of it here.

The animals also like my packed down path. A mule deer fawn, with precious tiny hooves, walked in my snowbike track that skirted a meadow of golden grass weighted down by snow.

Deeper in the forest, a bobcat had marched carefully within my snowbike tracks. Not only do these animals save energy by walking in my snowbike track, they also carefully place each hind paw exactly where the front paw already packed the snow. That careful stepping means that they only have to sink into the snow once, with the front paw.

In honor of today's special moment of reflection, I include this photo of K from July when we stood on the cusp of a towering mountain summit. K eagerly waited to tackle the rock obstacle ahead of her. When I finally released her, she leaped onto the next boulder with undeniable joy. May all of us who face terrifying obstacles in our lives find a potent elixir of hope, strength, and yes, even joy, to help us negotiate them.