Hilda: A triumph of selective genetic compromise

Our 10 year old 15 kg biological cocktail comprises of German Spitz, Jack Russel Terrier, and oddly so, Chesapeake bay Retriever, a combination of breeds that, on paper, should produce a dog capable of sprinting across a field, leaping into a freezing river, and barking ferociously at a passing cloud, all at the same time. However, since there is a black box of 20 other breeds involved, Hilda looked at her genetic blueprint, reviewed the terms and conditions, and politely opted out of almost all of it.

Physically, Hilda is an absolute masterpiece of inheritance. She completely bypassed the Spitz’s evolutionary strategy of looking like an exploded pom-pom. Instead, she wears a smooth tightly tailored coat of black and tan with a bit of grey sprinkles due to her age. Her weight is a direct handout from her Chesapeake Bay ancestors. She is solid. If you were to accidentally trip over Hilda in the dark, you would not hurt the dog; but simply fracture your shin.

It is in her behavioural choices, however, that Hilda truly shines as an individual. The Chessie was engineered over centuries to plunge joyfully into the icy, churning waters of the Atlantic to fetch dead ducks. It is a breed that is, for all practical purposes, half-fish. Hilda hates water with a passion that borders on the religious. To her, rain is a personal insult, and a puddle is an impassable chasm of liquid despair. She prefers her paws dry, her towel warm, and her dignity entirely uncompromised.

Similarly, the Jack Russel in her DNA should compel her to spend twenty-four hours a day vibrating with manic energy, digging through the sofa cushions in search of imaginary badgers. Hilda has decided that this sounds like far too much cardio.

She boasts almost no discernible hunting drive, having calculated that the energy expended chasing wildlife rarely correlates with a satisfactory return on investment. The only notable exceptions to this pacifism are the local cats and squirrels, both of which she hates fiercely.

If Hilda has inherited anything from her clever ancestors, it is an intellect of terrifying precision. But it is an intellect that operates under a strict capitalistic framework. Hilda does not perform tricks for applause. She does not do them out of a desperate desire to please. Her brain operates purely on a "Cash only, and by cash I mean treats, the good ones!" policy. If you have a piece of horse lung, Hilda will happily solve advanced calculus, open a small business, or successfully dismantle a cardboard box with the enthusiasm of a maniacal customs officer. If you do not have treats, Hilda will turn on her Karen-mode, look at you with malevolent pity and demand to speak with the manager.

She is, in short, a wonderful, water-fearing, snack-fueled monument to doing exactly as much as is strictly necessary, and not a single calorie more.

Back from Hiatus

Hello, y'all! It has been radio silence over here for a while, and honestly, life decided to drop a whole season’s worth of plot twists on me all at once. Behind the scenes, I’ve been navigating a mix of big life changes - from recovering after surgery and handling some serious family matters, to adjusting to a somewhat untimely career transition. But because the universe loves a chaotic balance, there’s also our newest family member Bruno. Our fur baby has become a massive source of joy and is keeping me blissfully busy.

Right now, life consists of recovering, evaluating my career options, trying to convince a furry little land shark that armrests and pillows are not chew toys...

...and enjoying my daily dog walk routine along the river:

Life is good!

Welcome to the Pack!

Hi, I’m Bruno. a medium-sized, completely pedigree-free pup of 9 months, full of curiosity and a big heart, but with no manners. 

I spent my early days in the world's biggest animal shelter - Smeura - in Romania, when someone bought me a ticket for the bus to Germany. It was a long and stressful journey to the dog shelter in Koblenz, where I waited for months on end for a family to find me. They even made me a poster child but fame never came to me.

Then finally, a family noticed me, we had several dates and dog walks, and they decided to take me home. The dog shelter wasn't too bad, and I had made a couple of friends there, but now I’m learning what it means to have a real home and to be part of a pack. I’m excited, a little goofy, and eager for every new sniff and hug.

I still have a lot to learn the doggy 101. I’m working on basic commands, leash manners, staying calm around other dogs, and playing safely. I admit I am afraid of everything, cars, two-wheelers of any kind, strollers, particularly little kids, loud noises such a the rustling of leaves or the wind in the trees. And walking aids are pure evil. But with patience, consistent guidance, and lots of love, I know I’ll grow into a well-behaved, loyal friend ready for adventures with my new pack.

And aunt Hilda will nudge me, shout at me and correct me whenever I'm doing something wrong, that's a given.

Burgundy turns Beaujolais

We are on the road again, in quest of culinary delight, wine and culture of the French province of Burgundy, or more specifically the Beaujolais wine country between the mountain ranges Massif Central and Auvergne. 

Hilda coped well during the eight hour drive down into the heart of France, spending her time mostly snoozing, only to be interrupted by frequent potty breaks.

The weather is awesome, sunny, blue skies, with temperatures around 20°C, ideal for hiking, as I am continuing my trek on the way of St. James with hubby and Hilda serving as part-time company, entertainment and trail taxi.

Day one: Back in Cluny

The founding of the monastery in the 10th century sparked the Benedictine reform in Cluny, through which the monastery life, which had become too worldly, was steered back onto clear religious and moral paths. Only two centuries later, the mother house counted over 1,000 monasteries and became, in the Middle Ages, one of the most important and influential religious movements. I listen to myself, but this time I feel no particular “vibes” that sometimes overwhelm me at historically significant places. Cluny is today a nice place in Burgundy, nothing more (at least for me...).

Day two: The cloudy way to Tramayes

The region is not only famous for its wine but also for the Charolais beef (mostly from free roaming cattle). It is not cheap but so good! The trail follows a hill crest and although elevation itself is low, it adds up over distance.

Day three: Mounting the pass (Col de Crie)

I am walking through dew, getting wet feet but the sun's out and all is well with the world. The path leads up into the Massif Central, which is specifically popular with the pedal powered two-wheel crowd. Lots of spandex warriors on the road (thankfully not on my trail).

Day four: Ain't no mountain high enough

Today's goal is the climb (okay: walk) up to Mount Saint Rigaud, with 1,012 m the highest point of my Way of St. James so far! It's a long way up... Note to myself: Continue improving fitness! Highlight of the day is the holy spring on top of the mountain which is supposed to have healing properties. Maybe it will work for my Charley Horse as well, oh boy, that hurts!

Day five: Rolling downhill

The trail leads gently through fields and farmland down to Charlieu where I visit the former abbey with foundations stemming from the 9th century. In Briennon I say hello again to the river Loire.

Day six: Crossing the Loire valley

The trail remains mostly flat today. La Benisson Dieu abbey must have been a very impressive sight back in the days. The village of Saint-Haon-le-Chatel is a perfect specimen for the typical rustic architecture of the region.

Day seven: Entering the next mountain range (Auvergne)

The area is getting hillier again but with moderate elevation gain. I am now in the heart of Beaujolais country, a red wine that comes with a light, fruity, and fresh aroma of red berries. Saint-Alban-les-Eaux is popular for its mineral water and had been a spa town in the old days. In Saint-Jean-Saint-Maurice-sur-Loire, another picturesque village I finish this section of the Camino after 140 kms.

View on the Massif Central

Further impressions from the road:

Cluny

Tramayes

Cenves

Col de Crie

 

  

Chateau de la Clayette

Charolles

A free roaming and happy dog!

 A hike to the Pisserote falls (with a canine guide)

A hike at the Barrage de la Tache

What a wonderful trip!