Brenda’s been telling me about this tree, this tree they pass on their walks, she and Hooper. Apparently there’s a knothole at the base of this tree, where Hooper keeps one of his prized possessions — a tennis ball.

I was told where the tree was, and all I had to do was unclip his leash when we got close and say “go get your ball”, and off he ran. He bounded across the tall grass and hooked around the tree I suspected. I found myself running so I could catch up and see where he was hiding this ball, but, too late. He trotted out from behind the tree with a celebratory strut and a faded tennis ball jauntily held in the lower left corner of his jaw.

As it turns out, the hidey hole tree is conveniently located next to the Boulder mountain bike short track race course across the street from our house. This provides an excellent location for a Sunday evening walk.

Walking along, I threw the ball and Hooper would sprint down the track and fetch, like usual. But the variety of up- and downhill sections, the berms, the ruts, added a lot of fun to the proceedings. We made our way to the middle of the course, where there’s a high vantage point and from which there were steep dropoffs in every direction. I coordinated my throws so as not to send Hooper into a collision course with any of the mountain bikers who were also enjoying the evening on the course.

After a while, Hooper & I were really hitting a groove. He was familiar with all the varied ramps and dips, and my throws were timed just right so that Hooper’d reach the bottom of a particular hill just as the ball did, usually timing it just right so he could catch the ball on a bounce with a nice leap.

And then, the capper. Hoop caught air. Hooper caught air off a jump, so help me god. Hooper is better at BMX than I ever was. I threw the ball from the top of the hill, toward this steep jump; Hoop tore off down the hill after it, bolted up the slope, and leapt for the ball as it arced over. The jump was so steep and Hooper was going so fast that he literally caught air, as he flew up and over the jump and disappeared behind the mound. Moments later, he charged back over the hill, ball in mouth, ears flapping, and I just beamed with pride.

After an hour of this, it was time to go home. Hooper & I walked back to the tree, the special tree, and I guess we hadn’t exercised enough because I had to go put the ball away in the hidey hole. According to Brenda, when he’s really tired, he puts it away himself.

Hoop hasn’t moved much since dinner.

It’s tough to put into words how special this dog is.

Riding home from work tonight, I was struck by the nice dusk light and wondered aloud to my carpool buddy what it might be like to walk up the Shanahan Ridge Trail toward Fern Canyon. She was all about it. She said she often goes trail running around there with another friend. Suddenly it all made sense. I need to combine my evening walks with Hooper and some actual exercise.

I don’t exercise, even though I should. Hell, these days I want to exercise. I’ve decided it’s time to exercise regularly, partly because I want to, but partly because I need to. I turned 42 last week, and I officially have a “spare tire”. Shirts of the “large” variety now hug my belly a little too closely. Extra large provides the tent-like drape I used to prefer but now rely upon, to hide forty-something girth.

So, it’s time to get moving, on some sort of regular schedule and reasonable intensity.

To me, exercise means bike riding, but winter around here is still being a sporadic bitch, and the bike is simply too efficient to make a good exercise buddy during the week — too long a ride is needed for any reasonable training effect. I have been thinking running might bridge the gap to summertime, but I got into road cycling precisely because my knees were giving me trouble all the way back in sophomore year of high school, when I ran the mile in track. And, of course, the first order of business when arriving home from a long day at the office is to walk the dog. How to fit in a workout and walk the dog?

So, the answer was obvious. Head to South Boulder, and walk up the Shanahan Ridge Trail toward Fern Canyon, one of my first hikes in Boulder, and still one of my favorites. I could simply use the incline to make a workout of things, walk as fast as I can, and get the heart rate up while not actually running. Hoop could come along for the stroll.

And so we did.

I had no real plan, but arriving at the trailhead at 6:30 I just wanted to get in a decent walk before the sun went down. We started off at 6:36, at a good clip. Hooper was down with this idea from the first step, but it also took him no time at all to nose out a stray tennis ball, so we had a game of fetch going as well. I decided I’d walk as fast as I could until 7PM; I had hoped I’d at least get to that big rock known as The Slab by then. Hooper seemed to be having a good time. I was huffing.

At 7PM, we arrived at The Slab, and Hooper wanted to know why exactly we were turning around. But around we went, and headed back to the trailhead. I want to do this on a regular basis, and so that is precisely why I did not overdo it tonight.

Hooper kept flipping the tennis ball in front of my feet, imploring me to toss it downrange, all the way down the hill. We had a blast.

Working on a familiar trail, I have a very obvious yardstick with which to measure any progress, should I end up doing this on a regular basis. And at the same time we incorporate Hooper’s evening constitutional. The uphill grind gets the heart rate up there, without the impact of running. Sure the downhill is hard on the knees, but I can always bring the trekking poles to take the edge off. I think this can work, and get me in shape so that by summer I can take the bike out on the weekend and actually climb some mountains, or at least post a respectable FKT (fastest known time) up to the summit of Bear Peak, one of my favorite places to be in Boulder.

Hoop is snuggled up next to me on the couch; I laid out a blanket and he hopped on up and has been crashed out for a while. So, he’s getting a workout too. Win-win.

Yeah, uh, Happy New Year. 2010 is already underway, as far as I am concerned, because the International Date Line rolled on through, hours ago. Here in Boulder, It’s less than an hour away until my Timex ticks over to 2010. I’m not doing a “year in review”-type post, but wanted to wish everyone (anyone) still reading this blog a happy new year. 2009 was a crazy year and very much a mixed bag. 2010 promises more of the same. I guess I’m getting old. The cynic in me grows ever stronger and is provided more ammunition every day; all the more reason to reflect on all the good that has happened to me and my friends this year, I suppose. I’ve lost touch with some, renewed friendships with others, changed jobs, and been impressed by some and absolutely disappointed by others. I guess that’s the way we all go around. In the tightest orbit of my atomic life, the house is filled with joy and wonder; the dog is wonderful, the cat is a challenge but is helping me realize that no cat will ever be Emma (and that that’s OK), and Brenda & I are bouncing down the road toward ten years of marriage and twenty years of companionship. And that, THAT, is fucking awesome.

Settling up, I’m up on points. Here’s to everyone else beating the odds next year.

Today has not gone smoothly so far. Hooper woke us up at 5:15AM, whining. He’d had gas all night, so I took him out, just in case. He leads me around on a tour of the neighborhood as he strafes the area. We get back, I try for another hour of sleep but he keeps farting and belching (which smelled worse than the farts), then Ellie our cat pukes on the carpet, presumably because we weren’t paying attention to her. So I give up on sleep for the day and head downstairs to start working at 6AM, already deciding to work from home rather than repeat the two hour commute from my house to my house like happened last week when it snowed. Then Brenda takes Hoop out for a longer walk at his usual time, and comes back with no tags! He must have gotten the ring caught on a branch or something, and just unwound the ring and the tags all fell off. Brenda noticed once they got back that he had the ring (barely) hanging on his collar, but no tags. We go on a hunt in the snow, which in hindsight was utterly ridiculous, but Brenda thought she might have known a couple places where this might have happened. Hooper of course is thrilled, because he’s now on this third romp in the snow for the day and it’s not even 9AM yet. About halfway though the walk Hooper’s harness literally falls apart and slides off his body, too.

So now we need a new harness, dog license, rabies tag, greenspace tag and name tag.

Hooper’s pretty stoked about all the snowtime.

I’ll take a dog’s life…

We’ve been talking about doing this for months and months, and finally did it. We enrolled Hooper in a beginner’s dog agility class at the Boulder Humane Society, starting up in a couple weeks. Hoop spent half the morning running and jumping in the ballfield today, and we’ve long thought that Hooper would be a natural at agility trials. And even if he sucks at it, we figure he’ll have a good time trying to not suck at it. And so, on November 12th, Hooper will show up for class once again at the Boulder Humane Society and hopefully will ace his classes!

Man, I’m wiped out. So’s my dog.

This weekend I racked up a whole bunch of great experiences with Hooper, and we (and Brenda) are all tired out! Hooper ran with Jasper and Jackson for about an hour straight Saturday morning, which warmed my heart as I watched him interact with other dogs instead of just playing fetch. Last night, pissed that I didn’t have my camera to document the aforementioned morning trot with the cattle dogs, I brought my camera and got some nice pics of Hoop and the local pack having their usual fun. And today, Brenda, Hooper & I hiked up to Lost Lake near Eldora and enjoyed being outside, the three of us. I love this guy.

Today is Hooper’s second birthday—sort-of. I mean, today is the day Brenda & I selected to represent that milestone for him; since he was a stray, we really don’t know the day, but we know the general vicinity of the day based on his development when we adopted him a year and a half ago.

And what a year and a half that’s been. Hooper is my buddy, my dog, and I love him. It hurts to leave him behind when I go to work in the morning, every single time. He has me studying biology for chrissake. He has, quite literally, changed my life.

Happy birthday buddy!

I don’t know that I did much more than allude to it, but Hooper hurt his knee a few weeks back, and we’ve been walking on eggshells ever since.

He wiped out chasing a ball in the ballfield, and when he came up he was holding his right hind leg up for several seconds. I started running over to him and he immediately began to “walk it off”, in a manner that would have impressed Mr. Tezak, my ninth grade gym teacher. Thinking I’d dodged a bullet, we kept playing but I could see that when he would run around he would “bunny hop” with his hind legs, favoring the injury. Brenda & I backed off of his usual 2 hours a day exercise regimen, but he did not really improve. You could see an oddness to his gait, and every once in a while he’d even be standing there holding his hind leg up like he had when he initially injured himself. So a couple of weeks ago I took Hoop in to see Dr. Adams, and she conducted a thorough exam. She detected some tenderness, and based on my explanation of what had happened at the park that day, as well as all the lameness since, she concluded that he MAY have ruptured his CCL, or cranial cruciate ligament. Kind of the canine version of the football player/ACL injury. Great.

Since soft tissue damage doesn’t show up well on an x-ray, Dr. Adams was hesitant to spend my money on radiographs, and instead sent us home with some anti-inflammatories and strict instructions to limit his activity to a couple of walks a day, no longer than five to ten minutes in length; enough to pee and poop, and not much else.

Now, the last two weeks have been hard enough, watching Hooper literally slump when, five minutes into our walk, instead of heading right toward the ballfield—where all the neighborhood dogs are frolicking—we head left back towards home. But on top of Hooper’s frustration, I have been rolling the idea of major knee surgery on my dog around in my head. Despite Dr. Adams not wanting to “go there yet”, I of course started doing research on Tibial Plateau Leveling Osteotomy, and I was not pleased with what I was seeing. Sure, the four grand the surgery would cost would be a drag, but mostly I was concerned abut the idea that my dog, a week shy of his second birthday, could be cut up and never be the same dog again.

We ran out of anti-inflammatories on Monday, and I got an appointment today for Hoop’s follow-up exam. Dr. Adams is on vacation, but I got Hoop in to see Dr. McCormick, the owner of the whole hospital. As has been the case with every single doctor Brenda & I have dealt with at the Alpine Hospital for Animals, Dr. McCormick was very courteous, thorough, interactive and honest. With prompts and treats, we both got Hooper to submit to a full exam of his leg, knee, spine and hips. She brought in a model of the canine knee joint for explanations.

The final explanation: Hooper did not tear his CCL, and is not a candidate for surgery! The fact that I screwed up my ankle so badly last spring really helped me to understand what Hooper did do to himself. He probably pranged his knee pretty good, and that kind of tissue damage just takes a lot of time to mend. So now Hooper has been cleared to go for longer walks, but he’s supposed to remain on the leash.

Naturally, we went to the ballfield tonight so he could take a celebratory lap around with his pals. Naturally, again, he immediately rounded up Lanni, Mattie and Jocko and organized them into a chase group while he proceeded to blaze a few laps around the field at what appeared to be close to the speed of sound. Afterward, he wrestled with Mattie, flinging her over on her back more than once (did I mention that Mattie is a 100lb Mastiff?). But I could see two weeks of frustration escaping from his soul, like steam from a manhole cover. What was I supposed to do?

He seems none the worse for the wear, or the land speed record attempt. Right now he’s draped across his bed and just stretched, looked at me, and let out a heavy sigh. Life is good.

Well, Hooper had a long day, but he’s home, he’s sleeping, and he’s minus one tooth. The remains of one of his upper incisors were removed—in pieces—from Hooper’s skull, and he now has “character” in the form of a gap in his toothy facade.

He wobbled around the living room and made us all nervous on the stairs, but he quickly flopped on his bed and slept while I read a biology textbook. It’s been pretty amazing to watch him be so mellow, and no one is more intrigued than Ellie, our cat. At long last, Ellie could inspect this odd creature with impunity, and she took full advantage.

I hand-fed him his entire dinner, and I think at this point he forgives me for taking him to that horrible place this morning. As I type this, Hooper is sleeping soundly and all is right with the world.

Tonight in my biology class, I got my first test results back. Ace. My instructor even wrote on my quiz: “Good; I think this vet thing might be doable”, and encouraged me to take a chemistry class as soon as possible. Then I got a text message from Brenda, asking me to come home right after class because Hooper broke his tooth playing at the ballfield.

When you study stuff like this, sometimes it’s hard to see the real world relevance to your work. But tonight, Hooper reminded me of why I’m doing this. And so as soon as I could, I drove home and we all rode over to the 24-hour animal hospital. Sure enough, one of Hoop’s incisors is sheared off right at the gum line and will need to be extracted. Apparently, Hooper and Monty—the two most ball-focused dogs in our neighborhood’s play group—turned to chase a thrown ball at the same time, and turned right into each other, and Hoop just got the losing hand in that deal. The vet sent us home with antibiotics and painkillers (for Hooper), and we will make an appointment tomorrow morning with our vet for the remains of the tooth to be extracted. The upshot of all of this is that I have been trying to schedule a time to shadow my vet as she does day-to-day activities, including surgeries, and so it may just work out that Hooper provides me with the impetus (and the patient) for finally doing it.

The pain meds seem to be helping, but every once in a while Hooper lets out a single, loud, bark, as if to say “god DAMN, this hurts!”. I hope we can get him in tomorrow for the extraction. Stay tuned.