"Do you suppose they will choose to make war against lean, solid dogs rather than against fat and tender sheep?"
Today’s game was to test out rain gear on a 3-mile ruck romp with Lean Solid Girl and our team weight, the Canadian Brick Bag (CBB), a sturdy canvas antique loaded with 35# of bricks. The rule was that the bag had to be carried in one hand at all times, by either one of... Continue Reading →
Find parts 1 and 2 here and here. I only thought about quitting once, when I fell down a storm sewer. I’d climbed a truly evil hill of densely packed million-dollar crackerbox houses, past homeowners leaving to go to the beach. One of them actually wore a t-shirt saying something like “Rucking is fun!” I... Continue Reading →
And just like that, the mornings turn chilly and the dogs need hooded fleece-lined camouflage jackets.
The air here stinks with raunchy, hot freshness in our high, dry forest of fir and pine. For cumulus clouds we have mottled tufts of shadow and our water would burn fast into vapor if only we'd brought some. The polychrome riot of lands where you dwelt visits these hills in a lesser palette, a... Continue Reading →
A lion-dog in winter. My supremely beloved little Snoot was born 14 years ago today outside Cambridge, Mass., and I became his babysitter the very next day. Even after years of callous parenting mistakes--like the dinner party where I ignored his meek "Help me!" looks all night as mere attention-seeking when in fact he had a... Continue Reading →
Thank you, Nature, for paternal instincts. From a deep sleep, I was rocked awake by the certain knowledge that in nine seconds, Snoot would vomit yesterday's grass cuttings onto my mattress.
