At one point in our past, and for seven incredible years, we had fourBoxers. We bred the mom and kept her entire litter of three pups. We lost our Princess, Red, the end of September, 2011 to cancer. We lost the mom in December of 2012 and our only boy a couple of weeks ago. That has left us with one dog.
Guinness. Our protectoress, the dominant one, the only one that doesn't like any other dogs than her pack. The one who fell on her head as a small puppy. The most needy one who loves to snuggle with J in the recliner. She is all alone now. We can't bring a new puppy in to be company for her, because she's not fond of other dogs. So, we are taking her with us whenever we can. We introduced her to Ashke, who was curious about her. Guinness, however, hackled and snarled at Ashke, so terrified she was shaking. So, J left off and took her for a walk.
Yesterday, J and T hiked the mesa with Guinness while I rode. It didn't take long to tire her out. Nine years old might not seem like many years, but to a Boxer it's old. They enjoyed the hike, although T was pretty freaked about the rattlesnake shed he found. I guess it could have been a Bull snake, since they are very similar, but either way it convinced T to stay out of the rocks and on the trail in future hikes.