Wordless Wednesday

We've had rain for the last week! It should clear up tomorrow. Either that or Noah is surely somewhere on the horizon. . .

A Sad Day in the Mountains

Sorry for my absence lately. It's been a tough week for the hiking community here.

After being missing since Saturday, the body of a local hiker was found Wednesday night. My stomach has been twisted all week after hearing the news of dispatched SAR teams on Sunday. The hiker set out on the same trail Kona and I took to celebrate the Summer Solstice. We took all of our summer high-altitude hikes in the area and it's been the destination of long day hikes for me for some time. The tragedy hits close to home.


Rest in peace, our kindred spirit.

Never loved your plains
your gentle valleys
your drowsy country lanes
and pleached alleys
I want my hills the trails
that scorn the hollow
up up the ragged trail
where few will follow

Up over wooded crests
and mossy boulders
strong thigh and heaving chest
and swinging shoulder
so let me on my way
by nothing daunted
until at close of day
I stand exalted

High on my hills of dreams
the hills that know me
and then up there I'll see
the lands below me
How pure at vesper time
the far bells chiming
God give me strength to climb
and hills for climbing

~Lyrics from Hills by Nightingale.

Sunrise Sunday

Fickle Fear

I'm happy to report that my knee is much better this week. I haven't had any pain on our last two hikes, which is a huge improvement from where I was just a few days ago. While I'm still avoiding major hills, keeping things short, and still make a conscious effort at walking downstairs, I feel like I'm finally healing. Thanks for everybody's good wishes and for your concern. While finances won't allow for a PT right now, I trust myself to listen to my body, knowing what's too much, when medical attention isn't optional, etc. Right now, I feel good about my progress and know that I'm just dealing with a stickler injury that's going to take time to heal.

With Kona getting less trail time, a change in her behavior has become more pronounced. "Outside," use to be one of Kona's favorite words. It was in fact the only word that could wake her from her slumber. The yard was a sanctuary where she chased squirrels, helped garden, basked in the sun. In short, it was one place where she was not fearful, where she seemed like a normal dog.

For about a month now, Kona has been afraid of the yard. Or, probably more accurately stated, she becomes afraid when she's in the yard. So much so that she jumps up and down at the fence, trying to escape. While different neighborhood noises have always had the potential to spook Kona, she's never had this kind of reaction. Ever. It's truly been a night and day change. Kona's fears have manifested differently and to different degrees before, but I've never experienced such a drastic change in her before. I'm at a loss.

And I'm feeling heartbroken. The best way I can describe it is imagine one of your favorite activities you share with your dog. Now imagine your dog being terrified of her old favorite thing. With Kona, having so few "safe" places and things makes this sting all the more.

While this has been going on for awhile, It's been more in my face now because I don't have "outside time" to help get Kona's energy out.

*I'm trying to piece together what's happened. Kona's not afraid of the yard itself, but by noises she's hearing in the neighborhood. I first noticed Kona's panicked reaction at the end of August when new neighbors moved in three houses away. They have two young kids, and Kona would go into full flight mode when she heard them while we were outside. But, she only acted scared when she heard the kids. (While kids have always had the ability to really scare Kona, this particular reaction is far worse than anything I've seen before while she's in the yard).

*School started back in the middle of September. The elementary school is at a distance where I can hear muffled kid noises if I'm outside during lunchtime (and really stop to listen).

*During the first week of November, our nextdoor neighbor went back to work and a nanny started coming over to take care of her three month old son. (Kona only ever showed curiosity about the newborn, never fear, but she did seem concerned that a new adult was around when the nanny arrived).

*The bad, generalized yard fear seemed to start (or notch up several degrees) one morning in early November. I stood at the gate to the yard with a cup of tea in my hands when Kona turned briskly around and ran back to the back door. She looked at me with the expression she gives me when I've "done something wrong." I thought I might have spilled some of my hot tea on her. (Still not sure if I did).

Soooo...my best guess is that her fear started with the new neighbors, then with the added school sounds and the changes happening next door her fear went from specific (new neighbor kid sounds) to generalized (nearly any sound). It's so bad now that she actually paces the yard, seeming to anticipate something scary. She can't relax while she's outside.

I've been trying to keep upbeat, with my bum knee already making me feel bummy, so haven't written about this new fear change. But it's been dragging me down lately as I have no clue how to help Kona. She's so instantly over-the-top freaked when she hears something that I don't think any kind of counter-conditioning or other go-to fearful protocols will do any good.

Please send some courage to my Kona Dog.

Ping Pong

Brrrrr! It's feeling like Winter out here. I had to document our below average temperatures, as our days for caps and gloves are few and far between. (Now all of you with real Winters, I give you permission to chuckle). Look! Frozen grass!
With the rise of the new season came the resurrection of Kona's 30 foot leash. How she transforms with room to romp and explore! Our recent outings have gone like this:

The morning sits quiet, the sun hovering on the horizon.
Out from the slope of the canyon springs a Kona Dog.
With a flying leap, she lands on top of a rock wall.
She then makes a joint-cringing jump off the wall, springs back across the trail and back down the canyon (then repeat). Who needs coffee at sunrise? Just plug into the four legged ping pong ball!