“Wanna go on a snowy hike?” Hobo asked, her face uncomfortably close to Hank’s, the urgency in her voice hard to ignore.
Hank sighed and flicked his big floppy ear. “It’s cold outside, and it’ll be dark soon.”
“We’ve got plenty of time! Besides, I’ll wear my snow pants and puffy. You worry too much, it’s the perfect day for it.”
Within the hour Hank found himself exactly where he had wanted to avoid and yet, perhaps Hobo was right. It wasn’t nearly as bad as he had expected now that they were here and ready to explore. Time outside, in the fresh air, was just what both of them had needed. Hobo tromped along in her snow boots, rambling on about this and that, knowing that even when he didn’t answer or had run ahead, Hank heard every word.
The snow built up around them made everything sparkle and while there were icy patches along the trail, Hobo didn’t seem to mind as she slipped and slid her way across them.
“Maybe we should turn around?” Hank asked. “It’s going to start getting dark soon.”
Hobo shrugged him off, she was enjoying herself too much to turn around now, and she knew Hank didn’t want to go back now either. “We’ll be fine, besides, I think we’re almost to a waterfall.”
Up and over hills, across the ice, along a river, they walked, trotted, and sometimes ran. Soon enough they came upon the waterfall that Hobo had mentioned. She stood on a rock, facing the crashing water with Hank beside her. For just a moment the only thing she thought about was that water. Falling. Flowing. She allowed herself to take a deep breath in and felt the way the frigid air saturated her lungs and expanded her ribcage. She imagined the breath was like the water, flowing through her, giving her life. Crashing down, then exploding back up again and pouring out of her nostrils.
“It’s getting dark.” Hank hated to interrupt her meditation, but the idea of a couple of miles of snowy hike, returning home on icy trails… in the dark didn’t seem ideal.
Hobo sighed, but turned back towards the trail, realizing the sun had slipped below the treeline and the only reason she was still able to see the outline of the falls was due to the full moon, slowly rising in its place. Perhaps she had stood there just a little bit longer than she had thought. The trail was in front of her, but it disappeared into a large dark shadow, the forest, looming before her.
“Hank?” Her voice was wobbly and uncertain, but she was reassured when she felt her buddy’s head come to rest under her hand.
“I’m here, hold onto my collar.” Her fingers clasped around the rough, red canvas, and they moved forward as one unit. Hobo, stiff and unsure at first, quickly realized that despite her blindness, Hank was perfectly capable of leading the way. She allowed her guard to drop and simply enjoyed the walk.
As they crossed back over the ice, she would lean against his brawny shoulders to find balance and his claws would provide the traction for the both of them. All the way back along the trail he stayed by her side, guiding her over the ice and through the trees. Hobo fell into a peaceful silence and started to contemplate the adventure of the day. As they neared the trailhead she gently scratched the soft spot behind Hank’s ear and gave him a loving peck on the top of his big, soft head.
“You’re an absolute dear, Hanky boy, I do not deserve your goodness.”
She felt his big wet tongue slide across the palm of her hand and she knew he would not have chosen to be with anyone else. He loved her deeply and despite originally wanting to stay home where it was warm and cozy, he would guide her along a moonlit, snowy hike a hundred times more if it meant that she was happy.