God bless Marlborough and her snow plow.
If the path be beautiful, let us not ask where it leads.
-Anatole France
Waldo has been on antibiotics now for six days. If what is bothering him is due to anaplasmosis, it is because the organism can cause kidney inflammation. Something that’s called glomeluronephritis. Even once the anaplasma has been irradicated by the antibiotics, it takes longer for the body to heal the inflammation. Now it could just be wishful thinking, but I do think Waldo is doing better. It’s not dramatic, but it seems he is peeing a bit less, a little less often and isn’t as frantic when he has to go. I’ve talked it over with his vet and it may take as long as a month of antibiotics to get back to normal. I’m just happy that what ailed him was easily corrected and transient. It could have been worse.
My energy has returned as well. Not getting much exercise for almost a month has made it hard to get back into daily long walks, but I’m getting there. Even the weather has cooperated, with temps in the high 20s and low 30s, no more deep snow and even some bright sunny days. At last, we are back on the trail. Things are looking up.
Now that we’re back, I notice the birds are rousing from their torpor in the warmer weather. I heard none for a few weeks when it was so cold and, now, I hear several different species. I can’t see them, usually, but I can identify their unique songs using an app I have on my phone. So far, I’ve identified American crows, house sparrows, northern cardinals, tufted titmice, black-capped chickadees and house finches. I even heard some Canadian geese. In the past, on occasion, I’ve seen the crows, cardinals and sparrows, but I’ve never seen the titmice, chickadees or finches. They hide in the bushes too well. But they do contribute nicely to the musical ambience. No Emmy birds yet. They don’t show up until late spring to early summer. Anyway, it is nice to be serenaded by birdsong once again, while out walking in the woods.
The path in Hudson is still quite walkable – no ice has formed yet. As I come near to the place where the 3.0 marker has been painted on the tarmac, I kick at the hardpack snow, trying to find it. Waldo watches me, wondering, no doubt, what I’m up to, then rolls around in the snow, waiting for me to finish doing whatever thing it is that I’m doing. I can get down to the blacktop surface in narrow trenches, as wide as my boot, but I’ve yet to find anything painted there. Each time I come out here, I dig away a bit more and I’m sure I’ll find it soon. But not today.
As we walk along, we pass a friend out walking a black and white border collie puppy. She and her husband are from Sweden and have been living and working here for decades. They used to have another border collie named “Svea,” which means “Swede.” She was about 15 years old and died a few months ago. The new puppy’s name is “Loki,” and, I would guess, is about 4 months old. He is quite excited to meet Waldo and jumps on him, runs around with a playful bark and is generally beside himself with rollicking glee. Waldo plays a more subdued, aloof, adult role, but obviously enjoys it a lot. I am so happy to see that Svea’s parents got another border collie. They’re a lot of work, but it is so rewarding to share your life with the little furry balls of inexhaustible fervent energy. And it means Waldo and I will be seeing them out here in the woods frequently again.
We pass several other people and dogs that we know. There are dogs who are eager for a treat, little dogs who are yappy and the occasional big dog who is unfriendly. Over the years, we’ve passed just about every breed and temperament you could imagine. There is a community of frequent walkers out here and, over the years, we’ve gotten to know one another a bit. Interactions are usually cursory and in passing, but still, we are a group with a common interest – walking out here. I know very few of the peoples’ names, but I do know a little of their stories. I’m on a first name basis with most of the dogs and, of course, nearly everybody knows Waldo. There are people that we pass that I don’t remember seeing before, but they know Waldo.
So, we’re back, Waldo and I, after a brief hiatus, and not much has changed.
It feels like home.
Meanwhile, in Hudson…