The sun finally came out in my part of California, on the northeast edge of the great Sacramento Valley. I had a number of invitations from friends hit the trails and I accepted almost all of them. As a result, I’m stiff and muscle-sore and my dog, Otto, is sleeping like a log.
The most beautiful outing was the hike on Saturday morning alongside the Feather River. Otto and I met my new friend Chris, owner of my recent foster dog, Chaco; Chaco herself; and Chris’ other dog, Indie, a Bloodhound-Border Collie-mix. Otto and Chaco were happy to reunite, chasing each other and wrestling along the way, while Indie – a little older and less athletic – was content to sniff her way along the trail and try to stay out of the youngsters’ way.
Chris and I stopped again and again to admire the view: the sun’s rays sparkling on the river; elegant blue herons wading on the river’s edge; the lush green grass springing up everywhere. The only thing that wasn’t quite perfect (at least from my view) was Chaco’s habit of flinging herself exuberantly onto and rolling around on every type of poop we came across: big gloppy cow patties, smaller but equally gooey wild turkey droppings, and even tiny, dried-up raccoon poop. She was literally green by the end of the walk and I was super-glad she wasn’t getting into MY car at the end of the hike. Chris is a great sport and a great owner, though, and she laughed it off, saying she had a crate in the car and she had already planned to bathe both her dogs later that day, so why worry?
I’m thrilled that yet one more of my foster dogs has found a terrific home, and I have a new friend and hiking partner – whose dogs are pleasant (if not pleasant-smelling!) and reliable off-leash. Talk about win/win/win!
