A story begun by my late husband and finished by me after he died about how we, who had always been a one dog family, came to own six.
This book has been a long time in the making. Eighteen years to be exact. Gary, whose voice you will hear through the first several chapters, died before the book could be completed.
When Gary was first diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia, he knew he would be spending long periods of time in the hospital. One day Gary announced, “I think I will write a book about how a family who was steadfastly a one-dog family came to own six dogs.”
It was not until after Gary died that I realized how much, and how well, he had written about our life and our dogs. After a year-long struggle, and after nearing the halfway mark of this book, he quietly died with family and friends by his side.
I moved on with my life. The book always stayed just out of my vision, almost too painful for me to consider. I took a glance at it from time to time, surprised at all he remembered and cherished of our life together. But, most of all, his book was about the dogs in our life and his profound and deep love for them. Nearly seventeen years after his death, I began reading his funny and poignant words and I knew I needed to finish his story.
Excerpt
“5– 4 – 3 – 2 – 1! Go driver!” yelled the timekeeper. “Hike! Hike! C’mon, Bayley! C’mon, Norm!” I shout- ed. With a jerk and a jump, we were off—me on skis with two dogs dragging a hapless human in their wake. I thought, Oh please, please let me get around the first corner and out of sight before I fall.
Fortunately, it was only about 200 meters to the first turn. My odds were good.
“Haw, Bayley! Haw, Norm!” We turned left and out of view.
“We made it. If I fall now, only one or two racers at most will see me,” I said to myself. I was very relieved. As I settled in behind the dogs, I looked at the beauty around me. It was snowing, and I was part of the landscape.
Boy! I would never have thought I’d be here doing this. Only a few years ago, I didn’t even know such a sport existed.
Where am I, and what am I doing? That’s the tale I’d like to share with you.
It’s a true story. There may be a few details here and there that may not be exactly accurate, but I’m afraid that’s due to a less-than-perfect memory, not fabrication. This tale revolves around my wife, me, and a little-known sport called skijoring.
Mostly, though, this story is about dogs—especially Bayley, our Border Collie, who was dubbed by one of his babysitters “the world’s best dog.” I’m sure there are many other dog owners out there who would dispute that designation, but read on
and you will have to at least put him near the top of the list. Most of the other dogs in this story existed in our lives in one way or another because of what happened to Bayley.
Professional Reviews
Running Silently
"For any reader who loves a story because it transports you to secret and magical places in the natural world, or to the tenderest part of your personal homeplace, Betsy and Gary Waterman’s Running Silently won’t disappoint. After the loss of her beloved husband Gary, and when she was finally ready, Betsy continued the story that Gary began years earlier as he entered a final life challenge brought by Acute Myelogenous Leukemia. We guess from the very first pages that Gary will have us know how the family of wonderful dogs–starting with one and ending with six– came into his life, and how much he delighted in Betsy and their days and nights together. As an avid reader, I loved every gorgeous twist and turn of the enchanted landscape around the eastern shore of Lake Ontario and the unique wonder of a place called the Tug Hill. This is a book that had me smiling and laughing one minute; then wiping away tears the next. I didn’t want to stop reading, but I did, because the eloquent tales reminded of my life with my husband and my precious wolf Kara, so I found myself running to share this or that passage. This is a book that resonates like a chord struck just right. For me, Running Silently is a metaphor for all of life. We glide along, or skijor along (you’ll learn about that too), experiencing joy or gathering courage. We find ourselves in ridiculous circumstances doing crazy things. “What, you say we need another dog?” Animals are great at helping us see the truth of our folly. Sometimes, we find ourselves on bumpy terrain, utterly humbled, and at others moving way too fast and out of control. And yet, undergirding the whole of the journey is solid ground. I felt gratitude that Betsy shared her brave re-entry into the world of camping and canoeing…without Gary. As I read Betsy’s part of the story, I knew that a weight began to lift, that shafts of light were breaking through. I was reminded that even with death, significant threads of love remain, that even through tears life dances below and above the surface of the natural world saying, “Come, there’s still so much more.”
Running Silently
“This beautifully written book pays homage to the sweet experience of sharing your life with a beloved pet, or pets. It also gently teaches the "law of sacrifice" and gives the insight that in the kingdom of nature, nothing is taken away without something being given in return.
Betsy asked me to read her book before it was published and I can tell you that not only did her writings and those of her late husband, move me to tears, they also redeemed my spirit.
Christmas is coming. This is a gift from the heart!”
Running Silently
"Animal lovers and pet owners know that the bond between a dog and its humans is precious. And because no two pups are alike — from their tail-wags to their canine alliances to their weird neuroses — every dog who comes into your life and home is a wonderful new adventure. When authors and lifelong dog lovers Betsy and Gary Waterman decided they needed another dog — and another, and another, and… you get the idea — they had more than a home full of sweet, wet noses: they had built a big, enthusiastic team of skijoring dogs.
The authors fell into this little-known sport accidentally one winter when they brought their beloved (and at that time, only) dog Leo on their cross-country ski jaunts through their snowy, wooded property. “Leo loved to pull,” and while he was the first dog to pull the authors on skis, he certainly wouldn’t be the last. As they opened their hearts and homes to “just one more” loving canine companion, the Watermans soon became a pack of eight: two people plus six dogs — all of whom loved to pull.
Running Silently is a memoir of dogs on the trail, but it is also much more. It is a window into the couple’s commitment and the power of a loving family (both people and pets, of course). We experience the frequent joys and occasional heartbreaks of “pet parenthood.” The book leads us on its authors’ winding adventure, whipping around tight turns with the wind in our faces, and reminds us that life — even near the end, and even in dog years — never really slows down."
Some great reviews for your first book. And an interesting juxtaposition between subjects: working dogs and leukemia. I know you had difficulty and joy in completing your husband's book.
Like my twin brother who lost his wife of 25 years who was very healthy to a tragic fall from a second floor stair step, I'm glad to hear that you have moved on well. After 28 years of caring for me, my partner is very tired so I hope that my progressing paralysis finishes the job sooner rather than later so that she can have her retirement without constant thoughts of me and my needs growing constantly.
Good luck with your book I think it will sell on two fronts. And that's a good thing.
After a long awaited weekend visitation caused by false allegations of sexual abuse, Glen got to see his children for the first time in over two months. He promised them that they would never be apart again and then they disappeared.
