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What started out as a good idea to get a dog for our son soon morphed into an arrangement whereby two big messy pups took over the household. Not content to be mere add-ons, Rambo and Buddy soon moved front and center of our existence, bringing joy and a degree of inconvenience overlaid by a rich layer of devotion and unwavering loyalty to the pack. Twelve years of fun and adventure unfold in these pages as we tried to remember that our four-legged companions were, after all, only dogs. We thought of them as family. Join us on backpacking trips and winter excursions in the mountains of Idaho where the pups remained at the center of the action. Rambo and Buddy went everywhere with us. Mostly we just played together. Their individual personality traits did not always blend smoothly with ours but we remained an inseparable pack of four. This is their story.

Buddy and Rambo could hardly wait for the tent to go up so that they could collapse on our sleeping bags. The subordinate relationship between master and pet was a concept that never entered their minds. If the pups were wet and filthy, that was not a concern of theirs. We almost never ever bathed our dogs and the aroma could be overwhelming in a confined space. There was urgency in their efforts to find shelter if rare inclement weather was threatening, for the fear trait kicked in with full measure as they tried to get through the door flap before we even got the tent erected. Robert and I didn't care much for lightning either, especially if we were high on a mountainside when a storm moved over. On such occasions our two-man backpacking tent became crowded indeed with dirty hikers, dirty dogs and dirty gear taking refuge from the elements.