My four-legged hiking partner

Every now and again, I try to stretch my writing muscles beyond my comfort zone of paranormal romance and erotica. Safe Word is definitely testing my creative flexibility by forcing my deadly plot into a real world scenario where the only monsters come in human form.

Aside from my work and this blog, I occasionally write about my experiences and topics that interest me. Usually that comes in the form of blogs about writing, hiking, science or motherhood. Very rarely do I reflect on my past experiences and the road that has brought me to who I am today.

I'm currently working on a very short piece about how hiking with an always eager malamute mix helped me get over a fairly traumatic relationship. When I think of how much my dog Bruno has meant to me over the years, I feel I at least owe him an essay.

Sometimes standoffish. Often hand to control. Always willing to go for a walk/hike/ski/bike-jor.

Bruno forced me to overcome my shyness to strangers by greeting them before our paths crossed so he wouldn't act overly protective.

Bruno required me to get off my butt and hike. He was rarely content with a half hour or even hour long walk. On weekends we tackled mountains. Or skijored. Or bikejored.

Bruno was my introduction into the Downeast dogscouts. Many of whom have become good friends.

Now that Bruno is beyond 10 years old and slowing down, I know that I have fewer years left with him. He's still rambunctious, but he now does his fair share of napping. He still loves to be outside, unless it's raining or below 20F.

I never knew him as a puppy since I adopted him when he was two. But I always think of him with that perpetual smile on his face and a spring in his steps whenever we step outside for a walk.