Agent of chaos

We try to meet Emma halfway, making space for her wildness, building channels instead of dams for all that joyful energy. On our daily hike in the woods, we walk through a clearing with a series of steep dirt mountain bike jumps. The first time she saw the jumps, Emma said hold my beer and ran full speed up the steepest jump, launching herself into the air at the top, a furry dog body outlined against the blue sky, airborne for a moment before disappearing on the other side.

We raced to the top, fully expecting the worse, but she was already running back up to do it again. Now we roll her pink squeaky ball over the smaller of the jumps. It flies in the air and hits the ground, bouncing wildly, as Emma tears after it. It is the only time she truly enjoys fetch. She loves playing in skate parks, all slick graffiti covered concrete bowls. When she first saw one, she ran full speed into the bowl, not realizing how slippery it was, losing her footing and skidding all the way down and back up the other side on her bottom, drawing impressed hollers from the watching skater kids. Our agent of chaos may never be a biddable dog, but at least she’s not boring.