These are the good old days

These are the good old days, and I know that they won't last forever. K and I headed out the door into glorious sunshine. I pedaled up to Hug Hill, where K surveyed the beauty.

I cajoled her into looking at me for a photo with the snowy mountains behind her. Our snowmelt is very late this year. I wonder when we'll be able to climb those mountains? Perhaps not until the 4th of July.

I rode my mountain bike, and K ran close by my side. To me, there's nothing more wonderful in the world than the companionship of a wonderful dog while I do something that I love.

I spotted a gorgeous combination of a Paintbrush and a Golden Banner. K took up her post, guarding my back, while I photographed it.

I am so grateful that she can run despite the loss of a weight-bearing toe. I'm trying to be mindful of "moderation" in her running. We alternate shorter and longer days to give her rests. She seems to love it as much as I do! The look in her eyes radiates happiness. Do you see the sparkle and amazing life in her?

My vet keeps warning me that K's running days may be numbered because dogs who have weight-bearing toes amputated usually cannot run very much. I repeated the vet's words to a fellow mountain biker who replied with "Well, your doctors have said that your fused spine shouldn't be able to tolerate mountain biking so you and K are two of a kind!". Good point.

After I dropped K off at home, I started my ride on a familiar trail. Every single day for the past week, this Flicker's head has protruded from his nest hole when I pass. I try very hard not to stop and watch him on most days because I don't want to disturb him. I couldn't resist today.

A little further along, I discovered that the wildflowers have exploded into glorious color in the few days since I last rode this route. Boulder raspberry bushes are adorned with paper-thin white blossoms. Later, these bushes will have bland raspberry-like berries on them that the wildlife appreciate even if we humans don't.

A favorite of mine, the diminutive skullcap is blossoming in the grass all over south-facing hillsides.

On those hillsides, I'm still seeing a few fresh elk tracks but the majority of the herd has migrated higher into the mountains following the snowline. The deer seem positively blissful browsing on the newly green grass and shrubs. They ignore me as I ride by. I love their velvet antler stubs.

On a great note, after 48 hours on his new antibiotic, R seems a quantum leap better. That means that the vet won't have to "redo" the surgery on his toe. Thank goodness and thanks for all of your good wishes!