By Shannon Auck
Casey captured me with her very first glance – a sideways glance looking up from a pack of dusty dogs that were overwhelming her. We connected instantaneously. She was saying, “Please get me out of here!” I wasted no time and doing precisely that.
She was a dainty, skinny pup about six months old with long, soft hound ears and a gentle spirit. Ginger, my senior hound, welcomed her to our pack. Within a month Ginger passed away, and I broke my ankle.
Recovery entailed increasingly long mountain bike rides from our back door. Casey soon became accustomed to the clicking of bike shoes and helmet straps leading to a trail excursion. Being a long-legged hound, she was especially suited for lengthy runs in the woods. Hounds can purportedly run from dawn ‘til dusk according to one resource I consulted, and Casey has logged thousands of miles.
On more than one occasion in the woods, she followed her nose as opposed to the bike. Those led to some anxious waiting at trailheads for her return, sometimes into the darkness. She returned reliably, seemingly satisfied with her untold stories of the chase.
Another favorite activity is snow play. Some of my favorite memories include uphill skiing. We’d start around 4pm and hike up to the top of the Snowbowl. As the temperature dropped and the sky turned pink, I’d reconfigure my gear. Then we’d rip downhill with Casey in an all-out run, stretched out with flapping ears. Her joy was obvious, and frozen whiskers were a hazard at times. I’m amazed to look back at how hardy she was.
In the spring, we’d take river trips on the melted snow. Casey’s been on the Verde, Rio Grande, Chama, San Juan, Little Colorado, and the Colorado. She’s also experienced on a paddle board and likes touring around on lakes. Always alert, she relishes the encounters with ducks and loons, coyotes, deer, and even an occasional bear.
Other travels have taken us camping all over, from Montana and Wyoming to Utah and New Mexico. She’s flown with me to Kansas and Los Angeles. Last August she got to see the ocean for the very first time. As the seagulls swirled above us, I felt with mixed emotions. This dog, who has shared so much with me, is taking in the beach for the first and likely last time. I gently considered her mortality, which instilled even more love for her in my heart.
New experiences foster a sense of growth, and I’m sure are a positive part of Casey’s longevity. Novelties such as skunks, porcupines, and cactus are hopefully in her past, but just recently she made three new cat friends. Her nuanced personality is gentle and uniquely special, especially with children, babies, and kittens.
These days the picture is a bit different for both of us. Casey embraces walks in the park, intently sniffing each invisible signpost. Squirrels still catch her interest but are largely safe. Curling up by a warm fire is good for both of us. She demonstrates an understanding of her weakness by accepting a boost up or a hand down graciously. I’m awaiting a hip replacement and, in addition to moderating my activity, will also need to learn to accept help.
Casey still loves to get out and take in the world. I’ll continue to take her, accommodating whatever she needs. She loves the fresh smell of a running creek and the warmth of the sun on her fur. She sets a perfect example of living in the present and appreciating the moments exactly as they unfold. I can’t imagine a more perfect companion.
