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We were deep in the backcountry, off trail, camped on a level bench behind some rock outcroppings. Jess stood quietly, looking down into the forest below—where she and Beau used to stand side by side, watchful, like a pair of wolves taking in the wild. Maybe I was projecting, or maybe dogs carry their own kind of memory. Either way, something was missing. For both of us.
When we got back, I wasn’t planning to look for another pup. But life has a way of nudging you forward. A new litter had just been posted—nine pups, out east in farm country. And that’s how Ridge came home at seven weeks old.
Border collies aren’t pets to me. They’re my tribe. Ridge is my tenth in forty years. (Full disclosure: some were my daughters’ or my ex-wife’s, but they still backpacked with me.) They’ve carried packs and sat with me on hidden ridges you only reach by leaving the trail behind. There’s nothing like sitting on a rock, 11,000 feet up, with your dogs at your side, watching the last light drain from the mountains while the night settles in.
I’m still in good health—I dance every Thursday and Saturday night at the old country dance hall, and I can still hike up to 12,000 feet. My collies give my heart a home that doesn’t question time or age—just love, constant and wild. They’re my reason to keep moving, stay strong, and live the kind of life you’d want to share with a dog like that.
So here are the first images of new puppy Ridge:
I leave the light on in the garage at the back of the house—it’s where the dogs go up the stairs to reach the second dog door that leads to the backyard. This morning, before sunrise, I opened the laundry room door to check on them. No dogs in sight.
Concerned, I went around to see where they’d gone. We’ve had foxes, raccoons, and even coyotes wander into the chicken yard in the early hours (although the chicken yard is separated by a tall wire and cedar pole fence).
I found Jess inside under the garage light, playing gently with her puppy friend. Hayley stood close by, watching them.
Ridge is a happy little guy—he plays hard, eats heartily, and crashes into deep sleep. It lifts my heart to see how closely Jess has bonded with him. Of course, I have too. Big time.
One of our favorite games goes like this: I lie down on the ground and cover my face, and Ridge comes bounding over. He pounces, licking my ears and head with wild joy. Sometimes he mouths me a little, but all I have to say is “No” or “Ouch,” and he stops.
He learned not to bite last week in the cabin, and being the smart boy he is, he mostly remembers.
This summer is all puppy breath, lush gardens, buzzing bees among the flowers, the rhythm of morning chores, and watching the light change through the trees. Most mornings I sit on the deck with a cup of coffee, the border collies gathered close, keeping me company as the sun rises.
Ridge had his very first big-boy walk on the greenbelt with his pack, and you’d never guess it was his first time. He stayed close to Jess, clearly taking cues and working hard to keep up with the seasoned pros.
When we went off-leash on the south side, Ridge trotted ahead of Hayley for a bit—but then stopped and waited for her to catch up. Being near Jess and Hayley is still his comfort zone, but he's starting to build confidence and explore on his own, little by little. He looked like he was having the time of his (tiny) life.
Back at home, he followed Jess and Hayley through the south gate, and when I came inside and headed upstairs, all three were already waiting on the deck for their breakfast. Ridge, my brave little adventurer, is already figuring out how to run with the big dogs.
I’ve been looking forward to the day he'd be ready to join Jess and Hayley on their outdoor adventures—and it turns out that day came sooner than expected. He’s already showing signs of having a bold, curious heart… probably picking it up from Jess (who got it from Beau).
#bordercollie #Colorado #mountaindog #bordercolliepuppy