Earthing; or, A virtual dog walk

Today I walked the length of Takapuna Beach without my shoes on. The sun was out, the tide was low, the sand was smooth and firm. Being near to such beautiful beaches is one of the best things about living in Auckland.

 Walking barefoot on grass or sand is a natural way of “earthing“. Apparently this practice causes a transfer of electrons into the body, thereby helping to neutralise free radicals and reduce inflammation, so bringing about improvements in physiology. Research is still in its early stages but there is some evidence that earthing can help with numerous conditions including pain, insomnia, hypertension, cardiac arrhythmias and autoimmune disease. Certainly I feel in better health when I walk on the beach regularly, and often get new ideas for writing while there.
For eight years I used to take this same walk once a week, rain or shine, accompanied by my mother and a dog called Khymer. Then Khymer and my mother both died, my husband and I were both ill, and I gave up doing it regularly. Now I am determined to resume the routine. Having Khymer with me only in spirit does have one advantage; I no longer have to start early in the morning to comply with local regulations about the times when dogs are allowed on the beach.

Bonnie the family dog

Nine months have passed since the last time I walked on Takapuna beach with my mother and Khymer. After both of them died I had good intentions of continuing the regular walks, in their memory, and for the health benefits of “earthing” barefoot on the sand. It wasn’t so much fun on my own and I soon gave up doing it.

But now Khymer’s family have a new puppy. Bonnie is a rescue dog, pedigree unknown, though pointer is certainly part of the mix. She is affectionate and intelligent and already, at about five months old, has learned to obey several commands.

Accompanied by our niece Libby, I walked Bonnie for the first time today. She enjoyed chasing seagulls, retrieving her ball, playing with other dogs and splashing about in the waves. No dog can replace Khymer, but the circle of life continues and the bond with Bonnie will grow. I hope to be walking her for many years to come.

Bonnie 5 months old

Remembering Khymer

 

“What breed is he?” People often asked when they saw Khymer out with my mother and me on Takapuna beach. Suggestions included blue heeler, collie, German Shepherd, Staffordshire terrier, and even Dutch barge dog. But we never knew the details of his ancestry, exactly how old he was, or how he got his name. A member of our New Zealand family had rescued him from an abusive situation when he was young. He grew up into a fine dog; friendly, strong and handsome.

I had the privilege of walking Khymer almost every week since I met him nine years ago. He loved these walks, whatever the weather. He would bark at the top of his voice when I arrived to pick him up, pull me along the road at top speed until we got to the beach, then bark again until I started throwing the ball for him to retrieve. His favourite trick was swimming out to sea, dropping the ball, and waiting for me to wade in waist-deep and get it, so I had to wear special clothing when going out with Khymer.

 

We had many adventures in our early years together, but he gradually became more sedate. His eyesight and hearing were not so good, and he developed arthritis. He stopped swimming in the sea. But he loved his walks as much as always, even up to last week when I had to bring him home early because he seemed so tired. As if suspecting what was to come, I took a photo of him before I left.

 

A few days later I got the message – he had been bleeding from the bowel, was weak and in pain, and the decision to euthanise him that morning had been made. Given his age – at least sixteen, maybe more – everyone agreed that it would be pointless and unkind to do anything else. I arrived at the house just in time to join the tearful family gathered round his bed. When he saw me he barked and wagged his tail. I did not go with him to the vet, but have been told that his last minutes were very peaceful. Though thankful that his suffering is over, I shall miss our weekly walks so much. This is how I will remember Khymer:

khymer-catching-ball