You’re doing extremely well. The Well-Being you seek is flowing to you. Relax and enjoy the unfolding. Abraham-Hicks
She came bounding down the mountain trail toward us, this medium sized fluffy-haired Husky-like dog, as we started our trek up Mt. Democrat. She was huffing a bit, but seemed happy enough, brushing against us on her way back to the parking lot. And we figured her people must be scrambling somewhere behind her.
This past Friday, Cam and I flew to Denver for a weekend visit with our son and daughter-in-law who live in Boulder. And now it was Sunday morning, the sun just rising over the mountains, as the four of us started the trek up this “Fourteener” twenty or so miles past Breckenridge. We saw other dogs on the trail, too. There was the long-bodied dog with the short legs and the red booties, the small dog who was carried over the tough spots, and the black lab with the graying muzzle. We saw the black lab a few times. Her person-companion was a young woman who carried a backpack filled with water and doggy snacks. As I rested on a boulder halfway up the mountain, the two of them paused near me for a drink of water, the young woman offering encouragement to her canine friend. Then they continued their steady climb before I caught my breath and I didn’t see them again for a few hours, until I was clawing my way up to the summit over the piles of rocks that didn’t even seem like a trail anymore. And there they were, dog and young woman, coming toward me from over the rise, on their way back down. “Your dog made it!” I huffed and puffed. “She’s a pro,” the woman told me. “And she’s eleven years old!” They both seemed like pros as they hopped from rock to rock, and they seemed like good friends.
All four of us family members made it to the top, too, and back down again, returning to the parking lot in the mid-afternoon as the clouds and thunder and rain rolled in. And when we approached our car, we noticed the young woman and her gray-muzzled friend standing by an SUV parked right next to our rental car. And we noticed something else, too. There, lying on the now wet ground, by the SUV driver’s door, was our first dog friend, the female fluffy-haired husky. “Do you know whose dog she is?” the young woman asked us. We told her how we’d met the husky earlier, assuming that she would be reunited with her people. Then, another couple, who just happened to raise huskies, came over and chimed in. “We camped here last night,” the woman said. “And the dog’s been here at least twenty-four hours.” Meanwhile the husky – she just lay still, taking it all in. The couple brought her a bowl of food, and our fluffy-furred friend just turned her head until her mouth connected with the food, and ate it all up. I brought her some bread. We all told her what a good girl she was. The old lab who was now sitting in her seat in the back of the SUV looked on. The camper couple told the young woman about a nearby husky rescue center and they exchanged phone numbers. Then the young woman said that she worked in nearby Alma at the base of these mountains, knew everyone in town, would spread the word, all the way from here to Breckenridge, about a sweet fluffy-haired dog. And if no one claimed her, the young woman said, she and her boyfriend would take her in; they were looking for another dog. We all praised the dog. We all praised the young woman. As the young woman lifted the dog into the back of her SUV, we cheered for them all, lifted by all this good-heartedness.
It was only later, as we bumped our way down the dirt road in our rental, that we reflected on it all, how the husky had known somehow to plop herself down beside this SUV, in a parking lot full of SUVs, that she had known somehow that this particular woman was a dog lover. We marveled at how she had accepted our attention, the food, the “good dogs”, even the lift into the car with a wag of her tail and a sweetness in her eyes. She had not offered a bit of resistance. And we marveled at how this young woman was a cooperative component in this dog’s positive manifestation. We marveled at how the young woman told us she almost wasn’t able to climb this mountain today because the ladder to her loft had fallen over and her boyfriend was at work and if she hadn’t found her rope-climbing gear beside her bed, she’d still be stuck on the second floor. We marveled at how good it had felt to watch them drive away, the young woman, her beloved black lab friend, and the dog we now called, Angel, at how good it had felt to be lifted to the vibration of a dog who had offered no resistance to the Well-Being that was being showered upon her.