Six months after placing his front paws on my right forearm at the Elmsford Shelter in Westchester, Paco was on leash springing down PerryMerrill at Stowe Mountain Resort in Vermont.
When we first met at the shelter, the two-year-old Springer Spaniel withblack-matted hair, white chest and white paws, greeted us with a calm,self-assurance that seemed out of character for an abandoned dog at thepound.
My wife, Patricia, was determined to compensate for the injustices of hisprevious life. She lavished him with bakery garlic biscuits, a goose-downmattress, and a nightly ritual of grooming and caresses.
Paco and I shared frequent runs in the wooded preserve adjacent to ourhome. His lead pace both pushed and respected the limitations of his two-legged companion. Off leash, he bird-dogged into the hills in pursuit of deer. Like afinely-tuned boomerang, he always returned.
In the days before Christmas, we visited Stowe, taking advantage of earlysnow and uncrowded slopes. We made arrangements to stay at the MountainRoad Resort, an AAA Four Diamond property, which welcomes dogs. Itscomfortable rooms are designed with motel style entrances, which offeredPaco direct access to the outdoors.
On our first morning, before leaving for the slopes, we met innkeeper, JeffKnox. Obviously experienced in canine matters, he arranged for thehousekeeper and Paco to meet before we departed. Paco arched to lick herface, and she offered to let him out at mid day.
On the way to the slopes, while sizing up demos at Performance Sports, wewere monitored by Max, the owners' Golden Retriever. Upstairs at the Snowboard Addic, we met Chief, another Golden Retriever. "Does heski?" I playfully asked manager John Zartarian. "Chief used to get a doglift pass as a novelty. He gets in about 10 days a season," he replied.
Come again? The wheels began turning. Neither Patricia nor I likedleaving Paco in our room. But we never imagined he could join us skiing. That day, while enjoying top to bottom runs on soft, empty slopes we beganasking around.
Half jokingly, we approached a gondola operator: "How would you respond ifwe showed up with our Springer?" I asked. "No problem," he repliedunfazed, "as long as he is on a leash getting on and off the lift." Heexplained it would be hazardous for a loose and possibly frightened dog tobe free around the moving equipment and skiers.
As we slipped our skis into the pockets of the gondola cabin he added: "The ski patrol won't appreciate seeing your dog near other skiers orboarders. It would be good to come during slow periods and ski uncrowdedslopes." This presented few constraints during this pre-holiday period.
The next morning, Patricia prepared Paco for the slopes by fashioning a redbandanna around his neck. We dubbed it"Paco's Parka." At the mountain, I flung my skis over my shoulder, handed Patricia my poles, and led Paco tothe lift on his sky blue leash. To our pleasant surprise, the liftoperator didn't flinch, not even to check Paco's collar for a pass.
Paco was a little tense from the rumbling in the gondola terminal, so ittook some coaxing to get him into the enclosed cabin. As we took off andbegan floating in air, he took refuge in Patricia's arms. In time, Pacorelaxed on the lift and moved to sit by himself and take in the views.
While acting with admirable restraint on the lift, Paco produced the inevitable yellow-snow as we stepped into our skis on top. The patch was easily repaired by side slipping.
Despite our synchronized gait while jogging, I wasn't quite sure how thingswould work out on the slopes. Would he lunge for the woods? Or veer infront of other skiers? Would I spear him with my ski tips?
It turned out to be rather simple. At first, I snow plowed behind him, applying my edges to control his speed. Seemingly uncaring whether thesurface was bumped or groomed, Paco displayed impressive abandon for abeginner. He simply pointed his snout down the fall line, and ran fulltilt, often leaping with all four paws off of the snow, with his floppyears flying overhead.
After a while, my technique evolved from a fatiguing wedge to linking shortturns through his wake. At times I attempted to control his speed bythrowing a cross-slope traverse into his downhill lunge. But this provedto be highly destabilizing for him at high speeds. When turned sideways,his lower legs almost collapsed under the pressure of his momentum. It wasimpressive to see him maintain his balance and avoid flipping into anuncontrollable roll.
Paco's presence on the slopes was bringing out a playfulness in otherskiers. There were lots of chuckles from kids and adults as theyapproached to pet him, and a few photo sessions.
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