Me and Hector

    It was so terribly cold, snow was falling, and it was almost dark. It wasn't supposed to be that way when Hector and I started our hike. While the cold was starting to bother me, Hector probably thought it was paradise. For Alaskan Malamutes, the colder the better. Mals are big dogs and Hector was on the large side of big. Look, Hector is not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Mals were bred to pull heavy loads so brainpower wasn't a requirement, but he is a damn good dog and friend. Loyal and affectionate, Hector is the most Zen being I have ever met. He is steady as a rock and completely unflappable. Yeah I know, Hector is a weird name for a dog, much less a Mal. When we first got him five years ago and were trying to decide on a name, we threw all sorts of names his way. He was only eight weeks old and completely ignored all of them until I said, Hector. He immediately came over to me. Probably a total coincidence, but it stuck.

         Maybe you noticed I said, 'when we first got him.' It's just I or me now. I'm in my early thirties and a widower. Calli, my wife of eight years, died in a car accident with a DUI driver two years ago. Hector and I are still a mess. He was Calli's fur-baby and they were very close. He still sleeps with one of her shirts so don't tell me that dogs don't grieve. We started coming out on these long hikes as therapy for both of us. The insurance settlement from her death meant I didn't need to work full-time, which was good since I was in no condition to be working on power lines and transformers. Mostly Hector and I hung out and when the weather got colder, took a lot of hikes since he wasn't fond of summer.

         The weather forecast for the day was supposed to be cold and clear. As usual, the weather person got it wrong. I was dressed for cold and clear, but not for terribly cold and snowing. Hector of course wasn't bothered by the weather.  All of this should have been no big deal, right? Just head back to the SUV, but this was a new area for us and my GPS was sending us in circles until I was completely lost in an area I didn't know. Then the temperature plummeted and it started to snow. Not much at first, but it was coming down heavy now. I had a quick thought that maybe Hector could find our way back, but he was having a great time and didn't know we were lost. 

         The snow turned the woods into a winter wonderland. If I had known where we were and it hadn't started getting dark, it would have been beautiful. The snow threw a blanket of quiet over the woods and the bitter cold drove every living thing to find cover. Every living thing but Hector and I. I checked my phone again. There was still no service. I was starting to get worried. Hector could curl up and sleep through it until morning with no problem, I didn't have that option.

         "Alright boy, let's get moving. Let's try this direction," I said to him. We walked maybe fifty feet when Hector stopped, turned, and started looking in a completely different direction. "Come on, Hector, let's go." He ignored me. I walked over to him and crouched down in the ever-deepening snow. "Buddy, we can't stay here. We gotta go." No reaction, he just continued to stare off. I could see his nose twitching like he was smelling something. On the faint chance that maybe he knew where to go, I gave in. "Alright, let's try your way."

         He walked a short distance, stopped and began sniffing again, and then let out a long howl. Mals don't bark much, but they vocalize all the time. Most Mal owners say they're trying to talk. There are a million videos on YouTube about it. Mals also howl. Like their close cousins the wolves, they seem driven to howl at times.

         "What is it, boy?" Maybe we weren't the only ones out here. He started moving fast through the deepening snow. Hector was pure muscle with unlimited endurance and he could leave me far behind quick. "Hector, stay!" I yelled. He stopped, which was a relief, and looked back at me a little surprised like he'd forgotten I was there. "Slow down, wait for me." He vocalized a 'haruff' like sound and waited for me to catch up.

         Still sniffing, his short ears were turning like little radar dishes as he tried to zero in on whatever had his attention. I quickly clipped the leash on his collar and we started off again. He was pulling hard like one of his ancestors pulling a heavy sled. Hector had four-wheel drive so he had no problem moving through the snowy woods in the dim light. He could easily duck under branches and fallen trees. I, on the other hand, being on two stilt-like legs was not as adept and had to constantly pull him back while I tried to keep from running head-on into something.

         The exercise and exertion had warmed me up a little, but it felt like the temperature was still dropping and my extremities were starting to go numb. The snow was falling even heavier now and darkness was setting in fast. If we didn't find our way out of here soon or wherever Hector thought he was going didn't pan out, I was going to be in serious trouble. I'm not sure how far we went, maybe a mile when I smelled smoke. We went through a stand of large white pine and Hector suddenly stopped. To my complete amazement and relief, a cabin stood in a small clearing right in front of us. Shaking my head, I looked down at Hector. He had smelled the smoke a mile away. Probably heard the fire burning too. I, on the other hand, had to be right on top of it before I did. Human senses are woefully inadequate compared to dogs.

         "Good boy," I said leaning down to pet him. At that very moment, he lunged forward yanking the leash out of my hand and sending me sprawling face-first in the snow. I carefully pushed myself up to a kneeling position. "Okay, that hurt," I quipped, rubbing the snow off my rapidly numbing face.

         I watched my normally steady as a rock, Zen dog losing his mind on the front porch. Jumping and prancing, he suddenly raced back out to me and grabbed my arm, trying to pull me to the cabin. It sent me face-first into the snow again.

         "Geez Hector, back up." I gingerly got to my feet, staying clear of my suddenly crazy dog. I followed him to the front door. I knocked, no answer, but I could hear the fire crackling. I pushed down on the old-style handle. The door was no more than an inch open when Hector hit it like a fullback. I stumbled forward almost face-planting for a third time. Getting my balance, I looked around the cabin. It didn't take long. It was one room, rustic, with mismatched furniture scattered around. Cabinets were barely hanging on the wall in what passed for the kitchen, but it was warm inside. A roaring fire had the place toasty. A very welcome change, but there was no one home.

         Hector was charging around, upset he couldn't find anyone. He came over to me, clearly confused. He whipped around when the backdoor opened. A small figure bundled head to toe came in carrying an armload of firewood. I swear his eyes got as big as saucers. One instant he was beside me, the next he was on his hind legs, his paws on the figure's shoulders. Hector wrestled them to the floor as the firewood was sent flying. He started burrowing his nose in the figure's hood. I could hear them laugh. Two arms went around Hector's neck in a hug.

         "My beautiful fur-baby."

         I froze as solid as if I had been out in those woods all night. The last time I heard that voice was two years ago when she told me she was running to the store and would be back soon. She managed to untangle herself from Hector and stood, the hood now back on her shoulders. Calli had a huge smile on her face.

         "Hey," she said.

         My legs wouldn't hold me. I was down on my hands and knees, hyperventilating.  A gloved hand rubbed my cheek and then helped me to my feet.

         "Easy, big boy," Calli said. "Slow breaths." Her arms went around me in a tight hug. I couldn't move. My brain was complete mush.

         "I've finally lost it," was all I could mutter.

         She laughed. "You haven't lost it, sweetie."

         "How can this be? I mean, how can this be?" I said twice because saying it once just didn't cover it.

         Calli stepped back, petting Hector while looking me up and down. "You look good."

         "Not so good. Calli, I've missed you so much, but how are you here?"

         "We never got a chance to say goodbye. I never got to say goodbye to Hector either. I couldn't leave it like that. I also needed to talk to you." I was crying. I'm not even sure when I started. Her arms were back around me.

         "We've been struggling, the both of us. He looks for you every day. He thinks it's you every time a door opens." I hesitated a second. "So do I."

         "I know, it's why I wanted to talk to you and him. I really miss you guys, but I'm good. Don't worry about me. I want you to be happy, to move on. It's okay to let me go. Keep taking care of one another, okay?" Calli wiped my face with her gloved hand. She pulled my head down and kissed me. She tasted the same, felt the same. 

         "I love you," I told her.

         "I love you too, very much. Will you do this for me?"

         "I don't know if I can. I don't know if I want to."

         She smiled. "Don't make me get tough with you."

         I was able to finally laugh. "Okay, we'll do our best."

         "Sit down and relax. I need to talk with Hector. Just close your eyes and enjoy the fire."

         I sat. The heat from the fire seemed to reach out and envelop me. A huge wave of drowsiness swept over me. The last thing I remember was Calli sitting on the floor with Hector. She was rubbing him behind the ears and talking to him.

         I came to wrapped in a quilt. I looked around in confusion. An older man in a park ranger uniform came into view.

         "There you are. You gave me a scare."

         "Where am I?

         "Ranger station. Lucky for you your dog came here and woke me up. He grabbed my arm and started pulling me.  I got the snowmobile and followed him to you. You were pretty hypothermic when I found you."

         "We were at a cabin."

         He looked at me strangely. "That's not a cabin, just an old rundown shack that's been abandoned for fifty years at least. It's barely standing. That's where I found you, face down in the snow. It looked like you fell." Suddenly, Hector was there, half climbing on me. "That's a good dog you have. He saved your life. What were you doing out there?"

         "Hiking. It was supposed to be clear."

         "Weatherman! Be nice to have a job where you can be wrong as often as them. Just relax, a snow plow is clearing the way for the ambulance. They should be here soon."

         "I don't need an ambulance."

         "Yes, you do. Hypothermia is nothing to mess around with."

         "I have to call someone to get Hector."

         "I don't think you'll be in the hospital too long. He can stay here. He and my husky get along."

         A month after all of that, I was fully recovered. The ranger had been right about going to the hospital. I had a good case of frostbite and though painful, it didn't result in anything permanent like amputations. I was pretty lucky. It also caused me to rethink my analogy of Hector not being the sharpest knife in the drawer. What he did was incredible.

         Look, I have no idea how I ended up out in the woods like that. I know I saw, talked to, and kissed Calli, but I hear you. How was that even possible?  The honest answer is I don't know. Maybe it happened or maybe it was a hypothermia-induced hallucination. The only one who knows for sure has four legs and doesn't speak human. I asked him anyway. Hector gave me his most Zen-like look, but I swear he was smiling. 

         Either way, what I can tell you is that Hector is a different dog now. He's back to the way he was before Calli died. While he still sleeps with one of her shirts, he doesn't look for her any longer. He's at peace and more Zen than ever. I feel better too. I may not know how it was possible, but I know Calli didn't want us to struggle anymore. She had given us one last gift. 

         Thank you, Calli. Your fur-baby and I love you.

                                               The End