Rescuing a mutt from Aspen’s shelter good for the dog and the soul
For sure, it is a dog’s world.
I’ve thought that for a long time, but the more I am around our new dog, which we picked up last spring from the Aspen Animal Shelter, the more I see how our world revolves around them.
At the Uphill Town Hall meeting Monday night, the question of dogs on the mountains and with uphillers was a big topic of conversation. So much so that there are still some things that need to be worked out with dogs on the hills as their human companions make their way to the top and slide down.
Sylvie is our mutt who came back from the Navajo Reservation with the Aspen Shelter crew, had three puppies at the shelter and then came into our lives after her pups were adopted out. (For those in the shelter circle, she went by “Lisa” there, but that is my sister’s name so that had to change.)
This dog is living the good life, as all dogs should. She has gone from the wilds of the thousands of dogs running loose and scavenging off the land to a Snowmass condo filled with what seems like 87 dog toys I step on nightly, her own spot on the couch (complete with two blankets) and a variety of treats, from Milkbones to “special” CBD snacks.
That said, she still has her feral side. She has adjusted to humans after her interactions at the shelter, but she loves a good trash can — just ask my co-workers. When I bring her to the office, I first have to go around and empty the trash cans but she still finds an apple core or banana peel.
Her wild side came out in full force Sunday afternoon when we did a quick hike up Snowmass. For the past few months, I’ve worked with her off leash and she is doing really well coming back to a whistle when I let her roam at Wagner Park on lunch breaks.
Sunday, we hiked under the Elk Camp gondola, and she caught wind of something and headed into the trees. After a few whistles and “come dog, come,” no luck. I made my way into the aspens just off the Funnel run and there she was, fully engaged in what was left of a deer carcass, which had been picked down to the backbone and ribs. She was back in her element, if only for a minute.
Noticing a den of some sort, I quickly scooped her up and carried her about 200 yards away before I put her down. She stuck with me the rest of the way home.
She got a taste of the old life, but lucky for her about 20 minutes later she was back in the good life.
It is a dog’s world, and we do enjoy living in it.
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