“I had by that time lived with dogs, run with dogs, camped with dogs, for literally thousands and thousands of joyous and not a little educational miles. I had been saved, my life saved, many times by dogs- mainly lead dogs- making decisions about bad ice or moose attacks in the night, and I had learned again and again of my own frailty, slowness of thought and action compared to what the dogs could accomplish. And while at first I had trouble believing, because I was as chauvinistic as most humans are, at last I surrendered my own will and abilities to that of the dogs, and when Josh gave me his okay to the horses, I listened and bought the horses no matter my feelings for the broker. And the four of us- horses, dog, and I- spent a wonderful summer exploring the wilderness areas of the Bighorn Mountains in Wyoming.

And through all of it- swimming rivers, climbing impossible ridges and grades, running into bear, moose, and one unforgettable brush with a mountain lion- the horses never once let me down or even gave me a moment’s pause. Indeed, as the summer passed, I came to rely more on them- and their relationship with Josh- than on my own judgement. And the knowledge came that the three of them were actually running things and I was just along for the wonderful ride. Again and again as we went into the mountains I relinquished my feeling of individual, my feeling of self, to the three of them; we would start up the mountain out of the yard, and within a few hundred feet the mare- which I habitually rode, using the little black pony for packing- would take over and run the show. Josh would go out ahead on the trail, and if he ran into anything- a moose or an elk or, less frequently, a bear- he would come back and look at the mare, and she would slow and let me come to attention and react. When the ride got long, as it sometimes did, and Josh grew tired (he ran at least six miles for every mile the horse covered) and there was a long flat area, such as a meadow, he would wait until there was a boulder or nearby hummock and would jump up behind me on the mare and ride for a while, sitting on her rump. When- how- they worked this out, I had no idea. I had never seen it before and never since, with other dogs and horses. But they did it, irrespective of me, and as we rode, the seeds for this book were planted. And as they sprouted and grew with note taking and the mining of my childhood memories came the belief, the solid belief, that it is true not just for me but for all of us.

We don’t own animals. Even those we kill to eat.

We live with them.

We get to live with them.”