A PLACE TO RUN

I first ran in two directions along this river when I was a young pup. Mom dropped the tailgate on the truck and out I popped. The smells and freedom nearly drove me wild. I threw my young legs into overdrive touching the ground in only three places before plunging into the cool, blue river. My strong, young body plunged, sprinted, bounded and hurtled up and down the river stopping only for darkness. I was a wet, brown bellied little dog barely out of breath.

We camped along this river many times over my long life, Mom looking forward to the stop at our special place every bit as much as me. We would watch eagerly for the turn from the highway and then drive slowly along a long dirt road looking for the next turn that would take us to our camp for the night, always relieved that no one else had camped there. From my place in the camper, I could see the patches of green grass and the river spread out before us. Mom would find just the right place to park and then the tailgate would fall with a bang as she opened it. Hardly waiting long enough to greet her, I would again leap from the truck and bound to the banks of the river.

This spot in Utah is our coming to and starting off point for our trips and it is many times the last camp before our return to home in Phoenix. It is also our quiet place….our private place…removed from all the things we have to do and full of only the things we want to do. Sometimes I sit quietly next to Mom and we just listen to the river…the little bubbling and gurgling noises it makes as it travels past us. We watch the sun set together and we are still and happy.

One night my run through the river in two directions was not alone. Just before the last light of the day, a hawk circled over the river. I saw him and gave chase. He flew low over the darkening river and I chased him to what was as far as I knew my river to go. Then he swooped upward and turned back toward me. Now I was the one being chased. The hawk dipped low just above the water and followed me back to the other end of my world of river and grass. Again he swooped upward and back but this time he flew out in front of me. I became the chaser once more. Back and forth we ran and flew…chasing and being chased. Mom was amazed and I was in heaven; this great bird was playing a game with me. Not until the night darkness was complete did the hawk finally rise into the sky screeching his good bye. The sound hung in the air and echoed into the night. I was left wondering where he went.

The last time I was at the river, I was a 15 year old pup on my way to see the Grand Tetons in Wyoming. This time when the tailgate fell open on the camper it was a silent falling. My old ears no longer heard the banging sound. This time I waited for Mom to greet me and I waited for Mom to lift me to the ground. My body is old and sore from arthritis but when my feet touched the ground I forgot this and remembered only the river and the soft green grass. I smelled the birds and the grass and the bugs and the wet ground as I ran along my river. I ran full out to the end of the river as I knew it and back again to the other end feeling younger with each pass. It was still daylight when I finally sat next to Mom in camp. I was a wet, brown bellied little dog and I was tired and I was happy.

I hope you know a place where you can run full out in two directions, where the wind blows in your ears and where the scent of birds, wet earth and bugs fills you up.

Timmy Pup

Timmy Pup now runs here forever along his favorite river as I promised him he would.

Run Timmy....Run like the wind.....