Well, my fur may be getting white, and my bones may occasionally ache, but I still get around pretty well. In fact,
I'm not the sort to stop unless Israel does. We are currently in Italy, for the 4th time this year, however, our progress seems to have stalled; not that I mind. The Alps are a bit frigid, but I do love the mountains. The winding paths here are better suited to travel by paw than machine but this doesn't seem to bother Israel much. He has consistently driven our home into places it should not fit (occasionally I hear the term Verboten from strangers during my early morning exploring around our camp spots, whatever that means, though I've not
heard it recently) and promptly unpacks our food and the 2 wheeled machine. Sometimes we get to undertake adventures searching out unsuspecting creatures. I have been introduced to a variety of new animals to chase on this trip. Marmots, Boar, Apes, Stambeccos, and Hedgehogs have all provided close encounters recently. Occasionally, I even chase my friend. Perhaps I am over 3 times his age, but I have twice the legs. Still, he puts up a good show, I suppose.
Not quite Spain, not quite England. Gibraltar is all fun!
Yesterday, following a very cold night and an afternoon hike I was loaded into the box of the duo cycle and we searched the severely escarped paths surrounding our encampment for what seemed to be no particular reason. It was nice, but very quiet. We reached a clearing atop one of the bluffs and waited on darkness. Nothing was said, and though the setting was impressive, and the solitude meaningful, I couldn't help but feel a bit of my friend's despondence. I wonder, what will we do when there is nothing new to see?
At times it's good having a short memory. A day is a long time, and yesterday's concerns rarely matter to a dog today, especially if there is SNOW. Any day with snow is a new beginning. Everything becomes brighter, more exciting and my body wants to move. I'm uncertain of why this is, I am but a dog, however, there is something special in in the crystalized precipitation. Whatever the reasons, they are not relegated to the world of K-9s. Israel loves the snow almost as much as I do, and the lack of other domesticated footprints along today's hike meant that his smile was only for me. We made our way back down to the house for dinner. Even my food tastes good after such a day, and I gobble it down quickly. Israel is easily convinced to share some of his food too. Mmmmm.... pig bones and Brie crust! What more could a dog desire? We are now moving on from Italy through Switzerland to France. If I'm lucky, we'll have a few more snow filled days in the mountains. This is where I'm meant to be.
I've often wondered what it is like to be a human. In many respects it looks grand indeed. To be honest, I feel as though I should have some sort of honorary status. I mean, I pretty much lead the life of a human, aside from sniffing other dogs' butts and pissing on a wide variety of posts. I go where they go, I eat what they eat, and when I try really hard, and I'm not dealing with a dipstick, I can even communicate with them. However, as close as I come to being human there are certain things that I will never be able to do. While their funny paws are ill suited for certain tasks, such as chasing down, and throttling, rabbits, they also allow for the articulate manipulation of objects which I can only envy. All the motorized gadgets they use are particularly interesting. My best friend, Israel, has a bunch of self propelled devices he uses to take us, and sometimes only him, ppphhh.., on adventures. Though I have never acquired the skills needed to operate these marvelous machines I learned early on where to be when they are put to use.
When I was younger I would preemptively leap into their open windows and wait for Israel to come and take us on safari. These days I am not so agile and occasionally I need, or at lest request, help to get in open doors, but I still love the trips. Fortunately, Israel likes to travel as much as I do and he takes me just about everywhere he goes. The exception here are the open air, two wheeled, machines he seems to like so much. I am no a fan of these. They have been the impetus of many a dull day. Fortunately, about 20 years ago he began using an open air three wheeled machine that had a seat to the right and I got ride along with the wind in my fur. Still, every so often Israel would come, sit on the floor, rub my head and sorrowfully tell me that he would return. At first these long disappearances were a worry, but as I've grown older I have come to realize that Israel, for all his flaws, is rather resourceful. He always comes back in one piece. I just wish I could have been off having fun too.
My Friend Vladimir
I don't want to complain too much, but, even though I've been very lucky pup, I still deal with bouts of depression and anger when I've been left behind by my best friend. What a crock! Just to be clear,
I rely more on him than he does me. And yet, even as I surpassed 70 years old he sat on the floor once again and for an extended period stroked my fur and told me he would return. My despondence wasn't lost on him and I think he was feeling guilty as he left to travel around the world. Around the World? I didn't really have an appreciation for what this meant. 3, 4, 5 years, maybe more, left missing my friend? I was getting too old for such rejection. Much to my delight, Israel returned after "only" 3 years. It turns out that he was refused entry into a place called Russia and it thwarted his plans. This, folks, is what it feels like to be a dog. There is always someone looking to restrict your movements. His exclusion was a point of difficulty for Israel but it suited me just fine. We went back on the road and completed a tour of the United States (well 48 of them).
A New Adventure Well, I had to wait long enough but I finally got out of the United States at the ripe old age of 84.
Fortunately, I'm still in pretty good shape and my experience is a benefit in my new settings. A dog must be aware of their environment in order to make the best of the situation. There are now new challenges which must be dealt with. While a bark is, for all intents and purposes, a bark, the words used by humans are somewhat more complex. Though my tongue cannot form the syllables required to use words, I can actually understand many of them. Or at least I could till I arrived in Europe. The language barrier is made somewhat more surmountable by the fact that I am a very popular old girl here. Though I rarely understand what people are saying, they are almost always happy while saying it. They are always smiling, petting, and feeding me. This coupled with my superior nose ensures that my diet is well supplemented, just in case....
I will leave my delineations here at the moment. Our presence is required in Spain and the French motorway tolls are prohibitively expensive. This means taking a slow path through little towns (with unsuspecting shop owners). It's going to be a long trip but it must be done. I will return with news, pictures, and video from the trail. We aren't an inconspicuous pair and interesting stories are created almost daily. For those of you that may have occasion to meet me along the way, I am partial to Kebab and my name is Gillette, Daisy Gillette.
Well, my fur may be getting white, and my bones may occasionally ache, but I still get around pretty well. In fact,
to the world of K-9s. Israel loves the snow almost as much as I do, and the lack of other domesticated footprints along today's hike meant that his smile was only for me. We made our way back down to the house for dinner. Even my food tastes good after such a day, and I gobble it down quickly. Israel is easily convinced to share some of his food too. Mmmmm.... pig bones and Brie crust! What more could a dog desire? We are now moving on from Italy through Switzerland to France. If I'm lucky, we'll have a few more snow filled days in the mountains. This is where I'm meant to be.
