Happy anniversary, baby...

...got Hunter on my mind.

Here's the day we made it official, three years ago. (Our friends Mary and Pete Osterberg were visiting in AK and Pete took this great shot.) It feels like it's been longer, but then this journey has taken us literally there and back again, from one end of the continent to the other, slingshot around the moon and home. And then the long journey of slowly, slowly discovering what may unfold in my sweet, puzzling boy.

I still don't think I know him very well. I know about him. He comes alive on our daily walks in the woods, tail high, eyes bright with delight and discovery. We look at each other and it's unspoken - "yeah, let's take that one and see where it goes." He loves meeting his friends on the trail. He loves naps and animal crackers. He can fit himself into the space under the steering column in my tiny 2-door coupe, where he tucks safely out of sight during errand stops.

He never gets a bath because he never needs it beyond rinsing the mud off his paws. He has a marvelous, unique combination coat that's wiry and fluffy and wonderful and completely clean to the touch, and when we walk in the rain he carries a scent like freshly washed cotton.

He has a developed a BARK that speaks of ferocity and of fear.

He likes to look out windows.

He loves puppies and young dogs. He loves cats too but not in a way that makes his mama proud.

He's not a mental giant. He's the first of my dogs that hasn't been 'trained' and it suits me just fine. I ask a little, he gives a little. I don't ask more because I understand better these days how it feels when life asks more of you than you have. Sometimes he collapses from the pressure; sometimes he's defiant. The space his spirit inhabits is partly here, and partly something that lies just a little beyond.

Though he gets goofy and silly and playful sometimes, a shadow still follows him. When I touch him his first response is always to tense, to resist. It thrills me just to see him in a full-body relax, and it sends me over the moon when the tail thumps too. After three years he's begun to trust men a little more. (And Mom trusts them a little less, so we achieve balance.) But our life together has been especially blessed with some particularly remarkable men, and from George, Keith, Chuck, Dirk, Kelly, and Shane, Hunter has learned the most precious lesson that not all men have hurting hands.

I think there's more to come. Only in the last few months has he begun to meet my gaze more fully with his own. Only in the last few months has he begun to voluntarily give small kisses. My heart dares to think I may yet be shown the soul beyond those incredible eyes.

I love you, my sweet, exasperating, haunted, beautiful boy. Let's take that one and see where it goes.