Saturday, July 05, 2008

Rosie & Mundo’s masterful adventure

(Circa 1998)

Come on Rosie, I’ve got somewhere special to take you,” said Mundo.

“There will be hypnologic star-shine unseen by our kind; squirrelly animals to engage in recreation with and scents to behold from out of this world.”

Rosie grinned mischievously, “Mundo, you always get me in hot water by suggesting that I come along. Ultimately, the blame is shifted onto me. But I’m game. I suppose we could surely sneak away for two or three days, with little repercussion. After all what is life if we don’t let our desires sometimes drive us?”

Mundo deliberated deeply -then under his thin breath muttered, ‘I knew she’d go for it, all right!”

So they were off into the wild blue abandon of

Mundo’s piercingly deep, almost supernatural eyes selected the snow path. “Rosie, let’s head way out this curvy part of East Fork country –all the way.”

Triumph-fully, they wagged their ways out into the deep snow, straying from man’s path the way dogs ordinarily do.

They skipped fast onto an unadvertised sacred path. One that the wintertime humans, left mostly forgotten. Packed powder held the canines high, like stilts above the actual earth.

Through a sixth sort of sense, they sniffed out some secret cliff waterfalls, thereaways past P.K. pass. Rosie led the way, as they bounded past old Leadville mines and abandoned flophouses- still vibrating full of high tales and appealing scents -both good and bad. Civilization became thinner, while thick aspen groves spread out beckoning branches.

“What is that smell Mundo?” Rosie muffed, “Wood River Wolverine?
“That my dear is a wolf,” bragged Mundo. “The newspapers you stamp on, say they don’t live here yet, but you and I are ahead of the times, my dear doggie friend.”

To mix it up, Mundo started playing a rough rapscallion sport of tag and tackle with Rosie, tossing her about in the snow. Rosie encouraged this in a way, by performing acrobatics, as she flipped and flew asunder, through the thunderous air. Some at first observation would comment that their spirits almost drove each other crazy. It was a contrary coyote line of attack, which Rosie and Mundo held for each other, but in the end their healthy competition, made both of them better creatures. That day Rosie and Mundo checked out copious draws and game trails in their valley of deep serenity. Their unique playfulness consumed most of the afternoon. It was as if they were teenagers hitchhiking, two birds of a different species hooked on laughing and losing track of time and ending up on an off beam sphere.

The twilight drew in along with a slight wind to warn them of the approaching cold.

“Mundo, I’m ‘zausted”, woofed a winded Rosie through her snoot. “I could use some of that hot water that you always get me into.” Mundo barked, “I think we’re resting in some right now Rosie, for I have become a bit bewildered with all of the spiraling about you did –hypnotizing me with your axis of aerial tricks.” Rosie ruffed back, “Don’t blame it on me you surefooted galloping galoot! You’re the one that wanted to dash out here with me.”

They nuzzled together for a while to stay warm. Dreams of snowshoe bunnies emerged, hopping in their dear doggie heads. Colder air soon blew further into their teeny snow dugout. Meanwhile, at the trailhead, some guardian humans conferred, and yes, a cross-country skier out for some evening exuberance had spotted the radically rascally twosome.
Mindful of the forthcoming below-zero temperatures the Ninja wore a tight tortoise like covering for the outbound approach. His boiling temperament at the situation, held some simmering warmth in reserve against the blustery wind. “I will let these doggone dogs know what the deal is when I find them,” he repeated as a powerful chant.
Another instantaneous challenge had come afoot. Repeatedly, unexpected tests like these kept mysteriously arising. So often now, that he was becoming acclimated to these on the spot challenges. He shook off the accumulating snow like the gauntlet of physical trials he had passed with ease by always utilizing his tight focus. Those tests had prepared him for this sudden demand in true-world time.

It looked like the tracks could be theirs. Ill-behaved winding wispy dog prints trailing out only one way. The brewing snowstorm begin to match the mental storm unmasking beneath the rescuers physically powerful makeup. The snow was muffling their yips and yaps, but he still easily recognized the rogue dogs’ sounds.

The Ninja shifted in softly with the new snow, stirring the stretched thin dogs from their catnap area. On their return from the rescue he had some powerfully long words with both barkers, and for many moons neither one strayed so far in this lifetime.

And that is the story of one Rosie and Mundo’s big adventures in these parts.

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