A year ago at this time, I wrote a My Turn for the Recorder entitled “What will 2021 bring?” By malevolent synchronicity, the paper published it on Jan. 6, the same day Donald Trump tried to overturn our democracy by inciting a murderous mob riot. But I decided not to devote an entire essay to ranting about politics. At this point, what needs to be said has been said here by various writers and either you get it or you don’t. It’s tempting but not necessary to add to the din.
I recently underwent a traumatic experience that influenced this decision. We have a dog named Cody, our first ever pooch. He’s a Husky-Shepherd rescue. He’s also a hardy explorer who likes to go off to trot along the wild mountain ridges that are a feature in Northern New Mexico. We have a tracker collar on him which allows us to see him in real time on Google Earth. One day, he covered 16 miles. It’s reassuring if a bit nerve-wracking to follow his exploits.
Three weeks ago, however, Cody pushed the envelope. First, he decided to climb Vallecito Mountain and almost reached its 12,600-foot peak. In doing so, he got caught in a steep incline of loose rock but managed to retrieve his footing.
Cody has a supernatural sense of navigation but on the way down, zigged where he should have zagged and found himself on a high jagged cliff, surrounded by sheer drops. He was stranded there for 24 hours which included an overnight in 10-degree weather. We had to watch as he kept trying with no success how to extricate himself.
The next day, I was beside myself, convinced that I would have to watch my beloved doggy perish before my eyes. I called a friend at Taos Search and Rescue, who are revered out here as rock stars, for help. He knew the location where Cody was trapped but observed it was too dangerous to risk a rescue crew, nor would I want anyone to do so. He got me in touch with a member of the Taos County Sheriff’s Department who were not only realistic (Cody was in mountain lion country) but sympathetic; dogs having achieved a sacred status in Taos.
Cody spent yet another night in the mountains, in all going 65 hours without food or water other than wild animal scat and snow. The next morning, just as the sheriff was about to send out his team complete with drones and as the tracker battery drained to zero, Cody found an escape route and trotted home where he slept for the next few days.
Some might question why we let him loose. We have considered fencing him in but Cody has a wild wolf side to him and to do so would diminish his spirit. Since he confines his adventures to uninhabited areas, we’ve decided to let him run free and, as harsh as this might sound, accept the consequences. Such an attitude might have something to do with living in the still-wild West.
One point of this story is that I believe my friend in Search and Rescue is a Trump Republican and despite knowing my lefty politics, he did not hesitate to help me out and expressed concern throughout my ordeal. I don’t easily forget such acts of kindness and I know several liberal “activists” who wouldn’t have lifted a finger. It’s a constant reminder to see beyond the labels and the politics, something I freely acknowledge as a challenge.
It’s also a truism that when one is confronted by a personal trauma, the big picture recedes in importance. During this episode, I found that I gave less attention to climate change, politics and the various regional, national and global ills that normally occupy my thinking. All I wanted was for Cody to show up at the door, tail a-wagging. At certain points, my wife and I accepted that he would probably die alone up on the peaks and I’m not ashamed to admit that whenever I visualized his fate in my mind, I wept like a baby.
As I write this, Cody is out exploring up on the mountains. He is tough, resilient and intelligent; last year at this time, he found his way home at night in a blizzard. He also exhibits unconditional love without grudge or reproach. In the near future I might forget the valuable lessons I learned during his trial but I’m thankful that I learned them.
Daniel A. Brown lived in Franklin County for 44 years and is a frequent contributor to the Recorder. He lives in New Mexico with his wife, Lisa and intrepid dog, Cody.