13/01/2026
Alarm rings, did he move..? Not yet. We lie alert. Not because we’re disciplined, we love a good snooze, but because he might move. And if he moves, the day has started. Second ring, we are up!
Breakfast is served. Very nice!
Backpack comes out. Good sign!
Camera follows. Even better!
Tripod. Suspicious, but acceptable.
Snacks… not visible. Concerning. Did we miss them?
We fall into position behind him as if it’s muscle memory. Because it is. Up mountains, along ridgelines, into weather humans like to call moody and we simply call perfect. Wind for ears. Snow for paws. Space to breathe.
He walks with purpose, and we match his pace. This is our element. This is what we’re built for. Being out here. Moving forward. Always ready.
Then he stops.
The mountain hasn’t changed. The view is still a view. The light is… light? But apparently it’s almost the light, which means it’s absolutely not the light. So we wait.
At first we stand. Alert. Professional.
Then we sit.
Then we sit again, but slightly to the left, just in case that helps. Then we complain a little, because it can get boring..
He kneels. He adjusts something. He sighs quietly in a way that suggests greatness is near. We hear the familiar words: “Just one more minute.”
We have learned that one minute is not a unit of time. It’s a feeling. Sometimes it lasts seven minutes. Sometimes it lasts an entire lifetime.
Still, we stay. Because this is the deal. We follow. He creates. We wait.
We scan the horizon for movement. Reindeer. Birds. A drifting leaf. Anything. One of us checks the wind. The other listens closely for the most important sound of all: the soft, crinkly whisper of a snack wrapper.
Because here’s the thing.
We love this life. The mountains. The cold air. The long days that smell like snow and stone and freedom. We love following our human anywhere, no questions asked.
But patience, like art, improves significantly when treats are involved. Luckily he also thinks so, and he had packed plenty! Success🤩
Paws out 🐾