At times I’ve considered how great it would be to know exactly what you want to do every day. I’ve longed for the single-minded focus of a sled dog, who wants nothing more than to run day and night. How wonderful would it be to remove yourself from every day’s paradox of choice and just know exactly what gets you out of bed in the morning.
I used to have a more complicated relationship with rock climbing. Sure, I loved it for a lot of reasons, but between a natural fear of heights and some not-so-positive influences, experiences, and pressures, I was often too stressed to truly enjoy the sport. Many mornings I would actually wake up dreading going out to the crag.
But beginning early 2017, those stresses lifted, and I began to feel like I had found my inner sled dog with rock climbing. In the last few years, I’ve woken up every morning thinking about which crag I’d like to go to, studying the weather, the wind, the elevation, and the angle of the rock for sun exposure. I’ve made elaborate and often lofty climbing goals for each year. I’ve mapped out how I might achieve my lifetime climbing goals. I’ve helped other climbers achieve their own lofty goals.
I was a true sled dog — dare I say, a Siberian Husky training for the Iditarod.
Millie (Aussie) wants only to herd sheep and children
Since my fall a few weeks ago, I’ve become more of a Labrador. I spend a lot of time at home waiting for my human to arrive. I’m very excited when I can get taken out for a walk. Meeting and being friendly with people in passing has become almost second nature. And a car ride is a very special treat (though I can get whiny if the window isn’t at least a little bit cracked).
As a Labrador, I aim to please all of my doctors, nurses, and therapists. Though they should be more forgiving when I mess up. With each person wanting me to do something slightly different, I’ve received pretty inconsistent training. After some time though, I’ve learned each trainer’s nuances and alter my behaviors to each one accordingly.
I’d say I’m a pretty good boy.
Charlie (Labradoodle) has infinite energy and infinite frendliness
Georgie (Lab) and I engaged in conversation. She laughed, enchanted by my intellect… or maybe she was just scoping out my sandwich.
I’ve read recently, that sled dogs need their masters to put them through a complex and time-consuming calming process each night. This way they can sleep. This way, they don’t literally run themselves to death.
I’m not sure if my master was fate, luck, God, the help of the climbers at the crag that day, search and rescue, skilled medical professionals, or the combination of them all. But somehow, I didn’t climb myself to death a few weeks ago.
Since then, I’ve eaten a lot of good people food, spent extra time with my human, napped a lot, and even gotten to sit on all of the furniture. I still feel like a sled dog at heart. But for now, being a Labrador isn’t so bad.
This Week’s Happenings:
Wednesday, October 6: Everything happened on the same day! I was discharged for in-home PT (home can’t be our van for a while, so we moved into a wheelchair accessible extended stay hotel). I also had my first follow-up appointment where I learned that my new timeline for walking is… 10 more weeks! That means I won’t walk until 2022, but I’m going to try to stay positive. Like any good Lab might.
Lola (mix?) eating every small tree at Staunton