Dancing with Bears

K is in a good phase right now. We're having fun together, walking in our forest and enjoying summertime. At the start of every hike, she still explores the world in a small circle around me, like she's done for her whole life albeit at a slightly slower pace.

This morning, I spotted a beautiful butterfly, backlit by the morning sun as we headed into a peaceful meadow.

The air was cool, slightly humid, and not smoky. K seemed to love that combination and ran like a puppy! I smiled broadly. I love seeing my girl happy.

Look at the intensity in her eyes!

When it warmed up a bit more, we retired to a shady pine forest. I watched K closely, trying to assess how much energy she had.

As far as I can tell, K has decided not to be conservative with her energy. Today, she ran and romped, and then she suddenly became more sedate during our walk. So, I assumed that she'd suddenly become tired, and we headed home with her following closely at my heels, wasting no energy.

My opinion is that I'll let her run and use her energy as she chooses. She's still enjoying life on her own terms which is exactly what we want for her. I'll make it my job to be sure that we don't end up too far from home when she runs low on energy.

In the pine forest, K and I made a fun discovery of a bear path and a day bed that is very heavily used by bears, based on the number of scats and the marked trees nearby. I'll be putting a trail camera there soon!

It was in this area where we met the bear that I showed a photo of a couple of days ago. After I took a bunch of photos of him, he took off, bounding toward a bear path that I know well. This was the last photo that I captured of him before he disappeared, moving fast.

It turned out that he was heading directly toward the biggest and strongest male bear in our forest, "Milton", who was in the midst of marking a tree (he's the star of the video below). Milton had started by sniffing the tree.

Then, he turned around and started rubbing his back on it.

After an extensive dance (I showed you a couple of photos from it yesterday), he walked away from the tree (covered in pine needles) at exactly the time that the cinnamon bear was fleeing from me and K, and was heading toward Milton.

I suspect that the two of them caught wind of each other, and that the smaller cinnamon bear fled. I captured one photo of the cinnamon bear moving very fast past a nearby trail camera. There's a bear whammy tree behind the cinnamon bear but, unlike very single other bear who has passed this spot, the cinnamon bear didn't even slow to sniff it. I think that he was fleeing from Milton.

I do know that bears prefer not to fight if they can avoid it. Hopefully, Milton just postured to establish that he was the boss of this highly prized territory, and no one got hurt. Maybe my cameras will give us more insight in the future.

Finally, I compiled a video of a bear tree and all of its ursine visitors over a few weeks of mating season. I called it "Dancing with Bears" because Milton marked the tree numerous times, using slightly different "dance moves" each time. I hope that you enjoy it. You can watch it below or at Youtube.

Good day and funny bear!

Thank you, everyone, for your kind comments yesterday. Your support makes such a big difference to me. K has had a good day. I am so thankful.

We had a wonderful, lazy, happy, and fun morning walk together. She stood next to a Ponderosa Pine Tree that smelled like vanilla in the warm sunshine.

And, our sunset hikes continue. This was a smoky sunset, rendering K's fur deep red. We sit and watch the sun set and the graceful flights of a pair of night hawks who emerge every evening at sunset. They call back and forth as they swoop through the air capturing bugs.

 

Our sunset tradition is a peaceful ending to each day that we get to spend with K.

No doubt - this will be an undulating path, with good and bad days interspersed. I'm just thankful that today was GOOD!

I also am compiling some bear footage for you. My video isn't quite ready but here are two photos of a funny male bear who was rubbing his back on a whammy tree, and then he grabbed the top of the tree to rub it all over his shoulders. That tree must really smell like that bear!

These photos were from almost the same time when K sent the cinnamon bear running toward this tree. I wonder what happened when the two bears were in close proximity? I have a small clue that I'll show you tomorrow.

Here's to the good days and the support of all of you!

The bear and the aftermath

Yesterday, K and I took a morning "wander" in the woods, enjoying the quiet and each other. I took this photo of her, looking serene, in a dark pine forest, and then, almost immediately, she went on high alert. I quickly leashed her.

I'm glad that I leashed her because this beautiful bear ambled toward us just after I'd snapped the leash to her collar.

The gorgeous and healthy-looking bear didn't seem terribly concerned about us. He wasn't even remotely aggressive, even though K was going completely berserk barking and snarling at him from the end of her leash. He briefly backtracked and then made a small detour around us he headed on his way toward a heavily used bear path. Indeed, my trail cameras on that path showed that a flurry of bear activity was underway there at precisely the time that I took this photo. And, this cinnamon bear barged in on all of it. I'll tell you more about the incredible bear activity on that path tomorrow.

The hardest part of the whole bear encounter was how completely exhausted K was after she barked and snarled at the bear. We were less than a half mile from home but she seemed almost too tired to slowly walk that far. She even laid down in the middle of the trail for a rest, as if her legs could carry her no further. It seemed surreal - after all, she was still able to mountain bike with me just a couple of weeks ago.

That was a tough moment for me. I realized that K's cancer is really marching forward, and we're heading toward the end of our journey. I sat on the ground next to her and wept. I felt heartbroken all day, all last night, and all this morning. I spent last night snuggled with K, feeling her ribs rise and fall with each breath. Ah, what a special dog she is.

But, then, my and K's friend came over to visit K. K rallied in a huge way, looking so happy and playful with her long-time friend.

Her great mood has persisted. I know in my heart that our journey is nearing its end but every part of life, even the closing act, is precious.

I love you, K, and we'll be with you every step of the way.

Wordless Wednesday

The Look-out

Compare K's fur color to the next animal's fur

Taken with hand-held camera - Story tomorrow

My girl's amazing eye

Special Girl

Smoky Sunset

The Joy of Dogs

Several of you have asked if we're being impacted by the horrific wildfire near us. We smell the smoke but, thankfully, we are not in its path. My brother and his family had to drive near it on Sunday, when it was less than half the size that it is now. This was my sister-in-law's dramatic iPhone photo.

We know people who are close to its path, and our thoughts are with them and with all the wildlife who are running for their lives. Smelling the smoke does scare me, especially for the sake of K's lungs. I've noticed some outward signs that her lung mets are starting to impact her breathing. I hope that the smoke doesn't accelerate that process.

For the moment, I'm truly learning to take it day-by-day. K had a somewhat down day yesterday, and I was worried. I wouldn't call it a "bad" day by any means. However, I could definitely see that her ability to romp was hindered by her lungs. Being a dog, she simply enjoyed things at a slower pace. She rolled in the grass, nibbled on berries, and occasionally leaped over a log. I moved more slowly too and just rejoiced that my girl is still here. K is still a very happy dog.

I've realized that, because K was about 8 years old when she was diagnosed with osteosarcoma almost 6 months ago, she has lived 1/16th of her life since her diagnosis. She's lived it joyfully. Aside from my stupid human habit of worrying and grieving in advance, we've had an incredibly happy time. K has shown me that every single day is for living, and I mean truly living. These past 6 months have been a gift.

Her brother doesn't need to be reminded to live with abandon.

At this moment, I am surrounded by dogs, reminding me that it's time to go have fun. It's time for our sunset hike! We'll keep on living, with the joy of dogs, for as long as we can.

Oh, I almost forgot, our friend (and bird expert) Luisa was absolutely right about the raptor in my post yesterday. It was a red-tailed hawk. When the light was just right, we saw a hawk with a brilliant red tail visit the hole in the cliff, and we thought that he was trying to eat a nestling.  In retrospect, he was undoubtedly a parent to those nestlings. Thank you, Luisa!

Miraculous life in a desert canyon

This was the morning view, of glowing red rock, in our canyon campsite. I love gazing at it while eating breakfast.

Our vacation days followed a pattern, where I'd do a short ride with K first while the boys went for a run. One day during our ride, K and I visited the campsite that we stayed in when we first discovered this canyon. We camped under the cottonwood trees in the photo.

Each day, after riding with K, I'd leave her with the boys at the Labmobile, and head out for a solo ride. I'd go much further than she's capable of going now. One day, I visited an incredible rock formation, shaped like a ship by the winds that nearly constantly buffet it. You can see my bike at its base for scale.

Fortunately, K wasn't with me on that ride because it was "snake day". The first snake that I saw was a Gopher Snake, a big but non-venomous snake. Edward Abbey wrote that he befriended a gopher snake, enticing it to hang around his camp to keep rodents and rattlesnakes away.  This gopher snake was lying in the middle of a 4WD route so I tried to move him off of it so he wouldn't get squashed. He took up a pose like he planned to "strike" me. I decided to leave him alone.

The next snake was more dangerous. It was a Midget Faded Rattlesnake. Because he wasn't very big, less than 2' long, I initially didn't believe that he was a rattlesnake. But, he held up his rattle and shook it, and then I was sure. As he rattled, he slithered away at an astounding speed, disappearing under a boulder. When I read about his species back at camp, I learned that this snake was incredibly venomous, and I was lucky to have seen him from a distance rather than right below my feet.

When I arrived back at camp, the Runner told me that he'd spotted a falcon nest, in a pothole very high on a canyon wall, probably 300' off the ground. In the photo below, it's the hole in the center. The Runner first saw it when an adult falcon swooped all around the canyon and then entered the hole.

You can barely see the three nestlings inside the hole. You can see the bird poop below the hole. As we watched through the spotting scope, we saw that each baby bird would back up to the edge of the hole and hang his tail over the edge to relieve himself. We wondered how many nestlings lose their lives by falling while doing this dare-devil maneuver. It was so scary that I'd start talking to the nestlings, telling them to be careful, while they did it.

Seeing how high the hole was, we pondered the first flight of these baby falcons. They'd better be darn sure that they can fly before they take the leap!

Both parents were tending to the babies, bringing prey items to the nest for them. The parents were gone from the nest, presumably hunting, for the majority of the daylight hours. Sometimes they'd take a rest in the nest after delivering a meal but they mostly worked very hard.

One time, a parent hunted just above our campsite.

After sitting above our camp, he took flight.

Based on these photos, we think that they were Prairie Falcons rather than Peregrine Falcons but we're not absolutely certain. I'd be interested to hear the opinions of anyone with experience identifying falcons.

After the Runner's eagle eye discovered the nest, a sand storm arrived the very next day. There was absolutely no way to spend extended periods outside the van or to see the nest very well. Before the storm was fully underway, I took this photo. The visibility was horrendous. Moreover, each gust of wind sandblasted any exposed skin. We had sand in our eyes, in our ears, in our lungs.... you get the picture.

The sand storm day was a disappointment. However, it made me even more astounded that plants and animals can flourish in this environment. It's a tough place to eke out an existence but specially adapted species can shine.

The hot dry wind finally let up just before sunset... so we did take a short hike and enjoy the reprieve. Seeing the sun is even better after a day like that one!

Red Rock Canyon

During our recent trip, I was so grateful to visit the canyon where K and I first mountain biked together 7 years ago. It's been a long and wonderful trip since then with so many mountain bike adventures. K stood proudly next to my bike on our recent trip.

And, she posed next to the "signature rock formation" for the area during one of our rides. The rock, sculpted by wind, is like a work of art.

Much of the ground in the area is slickrock. Dogs really should wear boots to protect their paw pads but K has always refused to move on the slickrock when wearing boots. In the next photo, you can see that her brother has great boots while K is barepawed. You can also see that the wind was starting to kick up, portending the sand storm that would hit the next day.

I was so happy to spend time with K in this canyon where "it all started". She couldn't run very far anymore but every step was filled with joy.

It's not often that a person knows, with certainty, that they are doing something for the last time. It was bittersweet for me to know that K won't be with us physically when we next visit this canyon. I was filled with thankfulness all the fun and love that she's brought to our lives.

I'll tell you more about this canyon soon. The Runner spotted a falcon nest with baby birds in it in the canyon wall, which we observed with a spotting scope. I saw my first rattlesnake. And, we got blasted with a classic desert sandstorm. It was eventful!

My Hero

We seem to be settling in at a new plateau in terms of K's cancer. K seems happy with her life right now so I'm happy too. She and R joined me for a sunset hike yesterday and looked resplendent in the rays of setting sun and the vivid green aspen grove.

Believe it or not, I captured K doing this! I'm not encouraging raucous behavior like this because I'd like to keep her leg pain as quiet as possible (her leg is still very swollen). But, the fact that she chose to bound through the meadow like a puppy speaks a thousand words!

Then, this morning, I captured a photo of the Duo together atop Hug Hill. This is precious... because it may be the last. Or, my girl might keep defying the cancer, and there may be more mornings when she can hike to this small peak. I am absolutely amazed at her strength, tenacity, and happy demeanor. K is my hero.

We're simply taking one day at a time with K. I watch her each day, and we do as much as she seems to want to do. The past two days have been exceptional because, to my surprise, she has rebounded from her low point last week. I am taking nothing for granted... 

Later today, after hiking with the Labraduo, I went for a bike ride by myself. For most of the ride, I had views to the south. Then, I crossed a ridge and look what I saw. I freaked out and called home in a panic. The Runner told me that we weren't in any danger from this wildfire because it was pretty far away. To me, it looked like it was just on the other side of the ridge to the north of our house.

When I took this photo, the fire had ignited about an hour earlier. It was around a 100 acres then, according to the news. Now, it's apparently 5,000 acres. It's a hot and very windy day here, awful conditions for a fire. My thoughts are with everyone who lives in the path of this roaring inferno.

Please do a rain dance for us. This drought is scary.

To end on a happier note, can you believe that our wild Columbines are blooming almost a month early due to the record warm temperatures here? Such delicate beauty...

Coyotes, fire, and eclipse

Our K is continuing to feel pretty good. Her leg doesn't seem to hurt much, and she's enjoying life. At this stage in her disease, that's a victory worth celebrating. We had a gorgeous sunset hike yesterday.

Unfortunately, it included a scary coyote encounter. Since K has started all these pain meds, her responses to my verbal commands have slowed... as if it takes a moment for her brain to process what I said. Well, yesterday evening, four coyotes appeared out of thin air very near us. R was on leash but K was off-leash because I can usually trust her with wildlife. Not yesterday. She chased the pack of silvery coyote ghosts, either not comprehending my calls or choosing to ignore them. When she decides to run, she can be an intense dog, as you can see in the photo below from early May.

Fortunately, K ran out of energy very early in the chase. R and I ran over to save her when there were four coyotes circled around her but still a fair distance from her. I used some evil language as I snarled at the coyotes, saying that they were not going to kill my K. My tone did the job, and they disappeared into the brush. It's amazing how my fearless "Mama Bear" persona can emerge when one of my dogs is in danger. I think that I'll be using a leash with K a bit more until her brain adapts to the new meds.

Back to our trip... Two days ago, I had told you about the morning in the Abajo Mountains when the bear-hunting hounds chased a bear past our campsite to start the day. A little later, I headed out on a solo mountain bike ride. I kept smelling smoke as I rode. At times, it was a strong smell, making me think that it was not just a campfire but rather a forest fire. Because I was riding in canyon country, I usually couldn't see very far to know if a plume of wildfire smoke was visible anywhere near me. Then, I glanced over my shoulder as I descended into a canyon and I saw the scary plume.

I was in a canyon that had only one road in and out of it. Moreover, it appeared as if the fire was between me and our campsite. I turned around my bike and started hammering on my pedals to try to get back to camp. I was seriously scared. The last time that I saw a wildfire plume, it turned into an unthinkably out of control and damaging wildfire. I took this photo on Labor Day 2010 during a mountain bike ride near my house. Believe it or not, the fire had just started. Now that I compare our local fire to the fire in the Abajo mountains, the Abajo fire was tiny by comparison. But, I think that I'll always panic when I see a smoke plume after going through that Labor Day fire, no matter what the size.

As I arrived back at camp, I could see that the fire wasn't far from camp. Yet, in the little clearing where the Runner and the Duo were hanging out, they couldn't see it. I investigated a bit more, and I discovered a "prescribed burn" sign on the 4WD access road. It seems that the Forest Service put up the sign right before starting the fire without warning the people already in the vicinity. Crazy.

Soon, there was ash falling on our campsite. We decided that it was time to leave, especially if we wanted any view of the solar eclipse that was due to start in the next few hours. We drove downward toward the desert, hoping to get below the plume of smoke. At first, it didn't look promising with haze surrounding the mesas.

But, as we arrived on the desert floor, the air cleared. Eventually, from our eclipse viewing site, we could see the fire up on the ridge where we'd been camping but the wind was carrying the smoke away from us. Whew!

We all enjoyed watching the eclipse.

It was an "annular eclipse" so the world didn't become dark at totality. But, to our surprise, it did become cold. I donned a heavy fleece jacket when most of the sun was covered by the moon.

And, it was most gorgeous when the golden sun set behind a ridge with the black moon taking a bite out of it.

We ended up staying in the Abajo mountains for a couple more days, before moving along to a red rock canyon that I adore. K and I relived our "glory days" when she was a one year old dog just learning what it meant to "mountain bike" with me. I'll tell you more about that canyon and our fun there in a future post.

K gave it "one ear up" and a bow of thankfulness that we were given the gift of one more visit together to this beautiful spot!