365 Days.

[Written today]

I edited this piece on the one-year-iversary of E leaving this world. I didn't have the courage to publish it when I first wrote it in January of 2024... nor when I dusted it off in January of 2025. Rick Rubin's "The Creative Act: A Way of Being" changed my mind last night.

365 Days.

[Written in January 2025]

Today is the 365th that the world has kept spinning without Eure in it.

It is also the 365th day that I have existed without a piece of my soul.

Eure is the reason that I think Hollywood really has this story wrong.  Love is a dog.  I have never known devotion in a such a simple and uncomplicated form as I felt with Eure, the keeper of my heart.  Whereas I expect my life partner to ferociously step into this life by my side, challenging me to be more and do more… I only expect my dog to stand by me and welcome me home.  And, home will forever be where the dogs are.

A year ago, I wrote about E’s life as a series of chapters of our existence.  Today, feels like the right day to release our story.

Love is a Dog.

[Written in January 2024]

Chapter 1: "I’ll keep you safe; you keep me wild"

I had dreamed of owning a border collie since I was a little girl, training a whippet (of all dogs) in agility. When I brought Eure home from Ravensgate Border Collie rescue in my mid-20’s, I was quickly overwhelmed by what turned out not only to be the smartest, most sensitive dog I’d that I’d ever met, but a neurologically reactive, traumatized dog that I had to quickly learn to understand and protect.  I lost the superficial friends of my 20’s over E. Yet, in that first hurdle of our shared life, we became inseparable.  I have no regrets in choosing E over people, again and again.

While many of my college friends were getting married and starting human families, I don’t remember wanting much beyond E and a life of questioning what I was physically capable of accomplishing. Eure was the dog I hiked and camped with, the dog I trained for running/ironman with, and the dog who kept me centered as the first stages of adulthood left me a bit miffed as to where I was heading in this life.

Chapter 2: "Ride or die"

In my early 30’s, I finally woke up to realize that I had created exactly the life I ran away from in my Midwest childhood. I woke up to realize that I had entered a long-term relationship with an alcoholic who wasn’t willing to face his problems.  The night that relationship came to a shattering halt, Eure bit my now ex, allowing me to get to my car… and leave. Finally and forever. My literal ride or die, my beloved dog, sat shotgun.

Chapter 3: Paradise found

In this Chapter of my life with E, I had returned from my PCT thru hike and finally understood how easily and completely we could disappear into the mountains.  And, that’s exactly what we did. There is no other creature in this world that I have ran and hiked more miles with; that I have spent more nights sleeping under the stars with; that I have sat with to plot the next biggest challenges, regardless of modality.  Eure was never the most flexible dog, but she was so incredibly bomber after we trained for situations.  In this chapter of our life we were utterly free.  The levity of our independence and strength of our bond knew no bounds.

Chapter 4: Home

E and I first visited Bend, Oregon when she was ~3 years old, and, on that very first visit, I knew it was where I wanted to spend the rest of my life. Bend was always meant to be our final chapter and I’m so incredibly thankful that I was finally able to give E our house, a big yard, low key trails… and a second human to love her nearly as much as I did.  It was in Bend that we finally came home, that we finally felt that peaceful release from big city energy, and that E’s graciously long goodbye began.

• In 2021, Eure had a vestibular event. She went deaf, her balance was never the same again, and she became ‘fragile’.

  
  

• In 2022, E’s kidneys started to fail.

  
  

• In June of 2023, when J left this world, Eure started to refuse normal dog food and moved herself to a junk food diet.

  
  

• In July of 2023, E started to get a string of antibiotic-resistant bladder infections.  We treated them but each treatment always resulted in loss of appetite, causing her to lose body condition.

  
  

• In October 2023, Eure had her first stroke, which lasted <3-seconds.  She rebounded quickly, without detriment.

  
  

• By December of 2023, E lost the ability to stand from a laying down position. She was still able to go on walks but, by the holidays, as the she began to have repeat strokes, I knew it was time to let her go.

Eure left this world in January of 2024 and the trusting look in here eyes as our veterinarian followed through with my request to give her the injections to stop her heart will haunt me for the rest of my days.

[Written today]

When I dream of E now, which is more often than I could've imagined, she is nearly always old and in need of my protection. She is in the background of my bad dreams more than the good and she is still, to this day, my anchor and solace.

This is a piece that I still haven't figured out how to end. Whereas a single summer can change the course of a life, maybe the passing of 365 days just isn't enough time to explain the importance of hers.