The long walk home

Henry’s getting old. Our seven-pounder has pounded many trails, but he’s feeling his age. We all are. Every morning we shake out his pills along with our own. One of the medications I take, Henry also takes, from his own pet pharmacy.

When Tom and I started adopting dogs, they were young like us. And while still young, or middle-aged, we’d watch them grow old and die. For the first time, Tom, the dog, and I are old together. The humane society in our county will not adopt a dog to people our age. So we’ve come to the end of the line. The shock that settles on a dog’s face after their owner bounces – whether for long-term care or the great beyond – is one of the saddest things going. I understand. No one wants to see that.

Henry takes so many medications, they come in pill, powder, liquid and gel forms. You’d never know it, though, because he’s as gorgeous as ever. Women hikers still lose it when they see him. Still, they drop to the ground, poles clattering, to gush, take selfies, record video. All the while he holds himself aloof, which drives them even crazier. Like many an old dog, he knows exactly what he’s doing and loves every minute of it. And all the girls dreamed that they’d be your partner, they’d be your partner....

We’re often asked how Henry’s little legs manage such long hikes. It’s true that he takes three or four steps to our every one. But until a little while ago, he ate up every trail we hiked, from the Adirondacks to the Catskills to the Kittatinnies to the Poconos. His veterinarian continues to assure us that exercise is always a good idea – as long as we listen to Henry: If he’s happy, great. If not, give him a lift. Henry rarely used to need a lift,but routinely needs one now, usually after lunch, when we’re headed back to the car. He’s good about letting us know: he stops, turns around, looks up at us, and waits. When I bring out his carrier, his eyes brighten. Yep, that’s the ticket. I turn into a hiking kangaroo, pack in back and Henry in front. He’s good company as we cruise along.

As much as Henry loves hiking, he feels the cold and has always gone into hibernation for part of the year. He sometimes lasts all the way to Thanksgiving, then starts up again in March. Again, he’s good at letting us know: Not this time, thanks. He’ll curl up on his plushy beds and watch us through slits as we pick up our packs to leave. This is not the boy of summer who follows us around the house as we get ready, determined to be taken along.

Those little legs do have one handicap, though: they can’t handle grassy trails except in early spring, after the grass has been flattened for a few months by snow. The grass of mid-summer and fall is taller than he is and quickly exhausts him. So we head for the white quartz cliffs of Minnewaska State Park. We get in for free because we’re New York residents and old. Tom shows his driver’s license to a card reader, and the entry gate swings wide.

We get on the trail to Gertrude’s Nose, a geological formation that tapers to a point at the park’s southernmost edge. Friends who had never before hiked the park were there to join us. I’d chosen the trail for its variety: first Minnewaska, a sapphire sky lake set against the glowing white cliffs; then carriage roads through pine and oak forests; after that, dramatic views of the Palmaghatt Ravine on one side of Getrude’s Nose and the Hudson Highlands on the other; and along the way, the many deep crevasses and boulders to step or scramble over.

Henry wasn’t asking for a lift – I think he was showing off for our friends. But his feet started to cross, and his head started to wobble. He went from sure-footed trail dog to unsteady drunk. Poor old guy. I showed him his carrier, and he smiled. He was ready. He flopped down on the trail and waited for his ride.

SNEAK PEEK

Trailhead: Upper Awosting parking lot and visitor center, Minnewaska State Park

Loop trail: Take Lake Minnewaska Carriage Road (red blazes) 1 mile to Millbrook Mountain Carriage Road (yellow blazes); proceed 1.5 miles to the 2.5-mile Gertrude’s Nose Trail (red blazes). Proceed on the Millbrook Mountain Carriage Road (yellow blazes) 4.8 miles to Lake Minnewaska Carriage Road (red blazes), then complete the last mile to the parking lot.

Total length: Approximately 11 miles