My adventures of late just haven’t been the same. You see, when I am out on the trail I often instinctively look down by my side at my dog, Peggy. I am used to her being right there with me as we hike through the woods, climb over rock formations (she makes it look so easy), and hop over streams (she usually just plows right through the water, getting a drink along the way).
If I am tired or struggling out there, all I have to do is look down at Peggy and it gives me a boost of energy and joy. She is my favorite trail buddy, always excited for an adventure together (unless it’s raining; then she would rather be in bed).
But, for the past couple of months when I have looked down for Peggy while out in the woods, she hasn’t been there. While I know she is at home, resting and recovering from an injury, I still look for her anyway out of habit. When I do, I am reminded about how much I miss having her out there with me.
Over the past seven years, Peggy has been right by my side on so many adventures both big and small (many of which have been highlighted in previous columns). Being that Peggy is a rescue pitbull who was found nearly frozen as a puppy during a cold snap in Atlanta (sadly, some of her siblings didn’t survive), my partner and I have tried to give Peggy the best life we could. I know that we have done just that when I see her smiling while we are out, living her best dog life.
Together we have climbed high peaks, hiked with many friends (both two-legged and four), slept in tents (and sometimes the back of vehicles) after long days on the trail, explored all around Centre County and beyond, and a whole lot more. She makes every day an even greater adventure.
All those adventures have been on pause after Peggy tore a ligament in her leg. After talking with her vet, we hoped that rest would heal her. Now, it looks as though the next step will be surgery that should hopefully get her back out on the trail for more adventure soon.
Of course, as hard as it has been for me, this whole ordeal has been even more difficult for Peggy. She doesn’t seem to be in a lot of pain, but every day when I put on my trail shoes, she looks at me with that sparkle in her eye. She knows what time it is, and it breaks my heart to have to leave her back home (hers too, judging by the sounds she makes when I get back).
You cannot explain to a dog that they need to rest and recover; she still wants to go with me. Our daily adventures these days consist of car rides so she can get some sniffs in, and extra pets and belly rubs.
I know that directly after the surgery, it is going to be even more challenging, but hopefully, eventually, she will be out there by my side again, doing what she loves, going on adventures in the woods.
The funny thing is, I was not always a dog person. Growing up, we never had a dog (we had a great cat though; RIP Bonkers). I always was curious and liked dogs, but really didn’t understand them.
That all changed back when I first started dating my partner, Becky. She had two big dogs. I was so unaccustomed to dogs that I would be constantly washing my hands every time I touched one of them (embarrassing behavior, I know). As time went on and our relationship became more serious, I learned to love those pups. In time, we all became one big happy family and had many adventures together. I realized maybe I am a dog person.
Flash forward to now, and I can’t imagine my life without a pup. Peggy is the first dog that has been mine ever since she was a puppy. Right from the start, the goal was to get her out on as many adventures as possible.
Of course we had to start off very slow. Dogs need time before they are ready for a real hiking adventure. I remember walking her down the block when she was a puppy. Every time she heard a noise, she would hunker down, afraid. When we graduated to walking a little longer on the Penn State campus, the CATA buses really threw her off. Then there was puppy school, where she was a quick learner, always looking to please.
Eventually, she was strong enough to tackle some big-time adventures, and she seemed to love every minute of it. No longer scared by the sound of buses (well, maybe a little), Peggy has done some incredible things.
While it is not easy to think about the cost and time of surgery to repair her leg, if it means we can get Peggy back out on the trail again, that is what we are going to do. Once she is healed, we will have to take it slow again, just like puppy days, but hopefully she will regain her strength. Her adventures might need to be a little less grand in the future, but there are plenty of them left to be had.
So, hopefully, someday in the future, I will be out on the trail again feeling tired, and I’ll look down and see Peggy happy to be outside. She always makes my life an even greater adventure. I try to make hers that way, too. T&G
Vincent Corso loves exploring the outdoors in central Pennsylvania and beyond.
