My Faithful Trail Companion

Written by Tony

The day Zoey died was very hard for our family. It was probably one of the most emotional days I can remember. To ease the pain a bit, I decided to go for a trail run after work. Why not knock out another section of the Wasatch 100 I hadn't ran before in preparation for the actual race coming up?

So I drove up to Big Mountain Pass just off of Parley's Canyon. This is the area the original Pioneers came through on their way to Salt Lake. I parked my car and started the trek up the trail for a 5 mile out and back.

At first the trail was steep with switchbacks. Then it began to level off as I ran through groves of cool aspen trees. I though to myself, "This is a trail that Zoey would love." There were lots of lizards and birds darting on and off the trail that she would enjoy chasing. The trail continued rising until it opened to beautiful vistas of the surrounding mountains. Memories of Zoey were fresh on my mind as I though about losing her only hours ago. My mind then switched to pleasant memories; such as the miles and miles and hours upon hours that she and Zeke and I had spent together on trails such as this.

I was able to run effortlessly, occassionally stopping to check the map to make sure I was still on course. As the trail meandered on the ridgleline high above the Wasatch, I passed another group of runners coming the opposite way. I said, "See you in a few weeks." Surely they're doing the same thing I was; preparing for the Wasatch 100. While they had each other for company, I had only my own thoughts and emotions and a few tears as I ran along.

After a couple of hours, I reached my planned turn-around point. The last rays of sunshine were dimly shining on the mountains. Two thoughts crossed my mind; these were the last faint rays of the last day of Zoey's life on earth AND I would probably be running the last few miles back to the car in darkness. So I picked up the pace. My legs still felt strong as the evening air got cooler and the shadows along the mountains grew darker.

I stopped briefly to view the sunset behind the Wasatch Mountains. As I gazed at the wispy, pink clouds above the mountains, I thought that Zoey is probably riding those clouds, free from the pain and suffering she had experienced not long ago.

I turned my attention back to the trail. Immediately I felt Zoey's presence running along beside me. There she was; just as hundreds of times before- my faithful friend and trail companion. However this time no leash was required to keep her from running away. I sensed she was there to help me navigate the final few miles of the trail as the remaining light of day dwindled to dusk. She took the lead. I followed shortly behind her, keeping my eye on her curled, bushy tail to help keep me safely on the trail. This was a pleasant, familiar view I never grew tired of over the years. This night, as we ran together, I talked to her and encouraged her along. Occassionally she would get a little farther ahead. She would stop on the trail, and look back at me over her shoulder until I caught up.

The light grew fainter until night had completely set in. I still had at least a mile to go. But Zoey continued to lead me down the trail toward eventual safety. All I had was her presence and the glow of my cell phone to light the path. She patiently slowed to match my pace as I negotiated the treacherous switchbacks down to the trailhead. Before long, I was back to the car. It was completely dark now. Tearfully, I said goodbye to Zoey and let her go.

(The last photo of Princess Zoey)