Just back from a wilderness overnight at a friend's cabin.

With some trepidation we let our dog off leash, knowing we were where grizzlies and mountain lions and wolves are active, knowing she could have turned north and run some 200 miles in contiguous wilderness to Canada, crossing two roads. She could have blundered into the elk's winter migration, chased mule deer, big horn sheep and antelopes.



She howled in the distance, her yelps fading, she was chasing something or being chased.

She tracked us as we climbed a peak and saw wilderness in every direction, tamaracks yellow among the ponderosa pine.

She came back. She circled, she came back again. She came back with a bloody leg. She came for scritches and breakfast. She came back thigh deep in mud. She came back with a pelt in her mouth not once but twice.

She came back and slept by the woodstove in the cabin beside us.


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