My sweet little hiking companion has done his fair share of dragging a$$ on our hikes this month. How could he not be gleeful and as full of energy as I am, up in these amazing, pine-carpeted trails?

The truth is, he is just like me: a little out of shape, occasionally short of breath, interested in taking his time, and taking it all in. Most hikes, he lags behind me while I whistle for him. And then, just when I wonder if I need to go back and look for him, his sweet little face appears from behind a trunk or around a curve. And usually, once or twice, he comes tearing. Top speed. Brace yourself: if he takes a curve too fast his back legs go sliding out from under him and he will slide right into you.

Today, though, was different. Today he must have known it may be our last hike for a while. He didn’t drag – he hauled. And as a consequence, I spent 6 miles looking at his fluffy tail wagging around, as if it were waving for me to hurry and catch up.