Jack was a well-known dog in a small community and one of those dogs who could smile. He spent a lot of time out on trails with his family.
Almost ten years ago my son and his friend went hiking and asked if they could take our young dog, Arwen. Most of you know this story so I won’t go into detail. The boys went bushwhacking off trail and Arwen ended up stuck on a boulder on the Index Town Wall. Luckily she was smart enough (or scared enough) to stay put on her boulder until help came.
But back to Jack. The search started late so it was getting dark. And it was raining. At one point I was waiting for Jack’s mom, who was coming with a backpack loaded with ropes and gear.
I sat in the middle of the narrow trail in the woods. The rain fell steadily, pattering on leaves and ferns, on raincoat, and dog. The light was that misty twilight where you can still see, but not that well. And being in the woods, it was that special shade of shadowy green that you only get in the rain. The woods stretched out above and below me as we were in a steep area. Everything around me was wet and lush as only a temperate rainforest can be.
Jack pressed up against my side and I had my arm around him. I was worried and scared for our dog, and getting a bit scared for those out looking for her. Eventually we agreed it wasn’t safe to go further in the coming dark, especially when we didn’t know exactly where she was and the terrain was steep. But at that particular moment, there Jack and I sat.
Every so often Jack would let loose with a single bark that would echo away from us. And off in the distance I would hear a plaintive little bark echo in return. Arwen was out there somewhere alone. Except that Jack was talking to her. I wondered at the time what he told her.
‘Stay put, we’re coming for you.’
‘What kind of idiot dog gets stuck on a rock?’
What makes that particular moment such a vivid memory is that in spite of being almost sick with fear for our dog, it was oddly peaceful. I could have sat out there forever, with the sounds of water and the smells of wet forest and wet dog. I remember shivering, and feeling Jack occasionally shiver, but there was a stretch of warmth between us where we sat against each other. There was the sound and scents of rain and earth. And the quiet peace of being alone in the woods.
Well, except for the barking conversation going on.
When I was in Denmark in July it was dry and hot. Record-breaking heat, relentless sun beating down on my head, unending crowds of people. I craved rain and rushing rivers and water.
And I remembered that twilight with Jack. Fear and worry and stress aside, it was a perfect moment.
8 thoughts on “Two Dogs In The Woods”
Glad everything turned out okay. Lovely descriptive piece, by the way. Felt like I was there with you!
I agree with Susan, I was hanging on every word! I’m also glad things ended well.
That was a very long night. Took local rock climbers to rescue her. But that moment in the rain with Jack was this odd tiny island of time that was strangely peaceful in spite of the worry and stress. Oh, and the son ended up grounded. I’d told him not to take our dog, that she was too young. And I’d told him not to go off trail. I pointed out to him later that if it had been him stuck on the rock we would have had no idea where to look because I’d trusted him to do what I’d told him. A wilderness lesson for all.
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two wonderful creatures! Say hello to my silly sweetheart 🙂
She’s waiting for you.
Love this, brings me right back to that night.
The hike with the boys up to where Arwen was ended up being pretty exposed, (I can safely say you and Jack would have hated it, much better to shiver companionably in the dark at the base of the gully).
Those guys were so very ‘off trail’.
All’s well that ends well but that was such a long night.
Today we had a visit from an old friend of Sam and Rowan’s, these days he lives far off on a tropical island that is so utterly unlike the PNW. After our visit he and Rowan ended up on a wild new trail at the Wall and when he returned I could see the spark of that young man who had some his earliest life adventures here.
There really is something about this steep, green land we live in.
Brings back another memory of sitting at the base of the Morningstar route nervously watching Arthur climb, and how you were there, so calm and reassuring. Once again in our steep green land.
What a memorable experience, thank you for sharing. Bit more of an ordeal for Arwen (that name <3) though. It's nice to recognize those moments of peace that are sort of frozen in time despite what's going on around you. Being in nature sounds like it made it more profound and having a dog by your side helps, of course:)