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It’s been a challenging week confronting the upcoming loss of my beloved dog Ajax. Had we said good-bye to him on April 30, as I’d originally thought we might, we would have missed out on a week’s worth of precious moments. So in this final raw, unedited post featuring my precious puppa, I share what a week of grace has taught me. We introduce him to our own version of the Rainbow Bridge in an hour.

1. Loving Good-byes

Ajax has touched so many hearts, not the least of which was mine. He has helped me grow into a confident, independent all-season leader on the trail. He taught me how to re-open my heart and love deeply following the loss of our first dog, Emily. And he has taught me to take time to smell the flowers, go barefoot, wade in lakes (a team effort with my daughter, perhaps) and enjoy simply listening to the breeze rustle, birds sing, and city or mountain sounds around us.

The first gratitude is for those who came to share a moment of good-bye with him – a birding buddy, a neighbor who has watched him when we travel, and our daughter. While painful, each was a blessing, and each person took away sweet doggy kisses. Each reminded me that the unconditionally loving dog is still in there, even if he’s had to turn away in pain the past few weeks.

2. Granite Lakes Hike and Beyond

On Tuesday I co-led a group of 11 CHS-2 hikers to Granite Lakes, a hike Ajax and my daughter have done with me several times. I felt immense gratitude for nature’s healing. Even when grief overwhelmed me several times as I lagged behind as “Sweep”, I knew nature held me in a way I’ve never known before. I am leaning heavily on the community I’ve built that surrounds and supports me. For the culture I’m shaping every time I lead a hike or mentor a new hike leader.

15 years ago when I said good-bye to Emily, I buried my grief — and love — for three years. Out of that loss came eight years of volunteering at the Woodland Park Zoo and a dozen years of creative writing with my critique group.

This time, however, I remain immersed in community. Four birding trips this month. My first club backpacking trip. Club and CHS1&2 hikes. Ajax has helped me grow my confidence so I could build an infrastructure that will continue to support me even when he’s gone. And while I wish he could be around for a few of those, I am blessed for all the adventures we were able to have over the past decade.

3. Ever Ready Stewardship

The past week has been as healing for me around losing Emily (our previous dog), as it has been preparing me to say good-bye to Ajax. In a conversation with a dog-owner client just yesterday, I came up with phrases that describe each of them. Emily was “All Bark and No Bite.” I think of Ajax as “Ever ready.”

Any time I packed my backpack the night before, the next morning he’d remind me of my intention to hike. He’d stick close like my shadow until I gave him the magic words, “You get to go, too.” Then off we’d race to the car for another adventure. His last adventure to the mountains with the Mountaineers was on March 10 to Teneriffe Falls.

On that trip, a gentleman was doing trail maintenance, digging drainage bars. I thanked him for his service. Unbeknownst to me, he descended with our group. At the bottom, he came over to give me a shoulder hug. Bewildered, I asked what I’d done to earn that. He pointed at the five poop bags I’d picked up on our descent. “So I didn’t have to carry those out.” Ajax taught me to be a responsible pet owner on the trails and how to keep trails beautiful for others; now I teach hikers how to do the same. He has been a steward without even knowing it.

4. Last Attempts to Help

I received emails from well-wishers asking if we’d considered an MRI. Ultrasound. Acupuncture. Massage. Chiropractic. Heat sleeves. Natural foods. Wheels. Carriers. A ramp so he didn’t have to do stairs. Some were possible, others not. On Monday, I felt a faint glimmer of hope when I contacted a holistic traveling vet. It was quickly dowsed when she confirmed that our course of action — to keep him still, minimize his pain, and relieve him of suffering on Thursday – was the wisest one. She did not have a magical cure for his neurological issues.

On Saturday, we’d scheduled a Thursday home visit from Jason Goodwin of Gentle Hands, Cherished Paws to give Ajax every opportunity to turn the corner. Monday’s confirmation felt like the final blow. Yet as we see him this morning, tail still thumping but breathing hard and struggling to stand, we realize we’ve done everything within our means to help him. It’s time to say good-bye.

5. Blessed Tiny Moments

The marvelous May weather in the PNW has allowed him to spend most of his time in our backyard wildlife oasis. He’s been undisturbed, at peace, close to sun, shade, birdsong, and a pond with unlimited drinking water.After two weeks of Ajax yelping and wincing, turning his back on us as though afraid we might hurt him again, the pain medication we tried this past week has helped. I will always remember when he gave me a raspy-tongue face watch a few days ago, after no kisses for two weeks.

6. Rainbow Bridge

And perhaps what has given me the most solace is a client’s driver’s suggestion to look up “Rainbow Bridge.” I revised it to read at his appointment this morning. It provided the perfect template for us to reflect on our own family’s bond. I’ve told my precious pup that he’ll get to meet Emily, and to look for us in the future when we can be reunited and go on as many adventures and backpacking trips as he wants once we cross Rainbow Bridge.

I don’t think I’ll ever look at a bridge the same way again. And maybe that’s how I carry him forward when he’s no longer with us.

7. Waves

I don’t know where I’ll take my blog next, as every post has had change and Ajax Adventures as the feature. Without Ajax it feels like a gaping hole in so many areas of my life. But one thing has come up: a return to poetry, like I did on my very first blog post. Is this the end? I don’t know. But I leave today, and this chapter of my life with Ajax, with a final poem.

WAVES

by C.W. Schurman 5/6/26

Waves

Gut punches

Unbearable pain bursts

Loss of unconditional love

Blink your eyes

Forever gone

Grief

Ajax

Eight weeks

Scratchy tongue kisses

Best hiking buddy ever

Delightful sniffer training

Eleven years

Uncomplaining

Breathe

More punches

Ride the waves

Doubled over, unbearable pain

Fall to earth

Sahara dry

Desolate

Remember

Dog lessons

Laughs, hikes, kisses

Goofy steadfast walkies companion

Teacher, best friend

Love you

Forever.