Meet Tinto.

Tinto arrived in my life in the middle of the Andes mountains just outside of Medellin, Colombia.   

I had been hiking all morning when I got to the bluest, most crystal clear river I had ever seen. Sweaty and ready for a swim, I eagerly threw off my shoes and shirt and dove into the water.

I swam to the middle of the river where there was a rock protruding from the water’s surface. Sitting on the rock, birds chirping and flying through the lush canopy, I got lost in the gently running water.

“Wow,” I thought. “This moment would be so special to share with a friend.”

Just as I thought that, I hear a bark.

Turning my head to the riverbank I had just swam from, I see a beautiful chocolate lab.

I tilt my head and he tilts his, mirroring mine. Hmm.

He barks two more times, jumps in the water and begins swimming towards me on the rock.

 To let you in on a secret. I’m 23 years old at the time with a deep love for dogs -- from afar. The truth is, I was terrified of dogs up close. Maybe trauma from watching a horrific dog bite as a child?

 So…. While I’m there in the river recognizing how incredibly cute this dog is swimming through the river towards me, I am equally as frightened. A big dog. In the middle of the mountains. In Colombia. Swimming towards me.

Mixed feelings, to say the least.

I subtly swim to the other side of the river.

He not-so-subtly follows me.

“Ok, ok, we can do this.” I’m trying to calm myself.

“Here he comes.” Gulp.

 He gets out of the water, walks over to me and shakes. I pick up a stick.

Not to hit the dog, don’t worry. Instead, I throw the stick back into the middle of the river.

He barks twice and jumps after it. Swim, swim, swim.

He bites the stick, doggy paddles back (doggy paddles =p) and lays it at my feet, nestling his body against my legs.

My heart is pounding.

I try a little pet. Ah!

“Everything’s okay.. Eeeeverything’s okay.” Just a bit terrified.

I throw the stick back in the water. Out he goes.

Dog bites stick. Dog swims back. Swim, swim, swim. I’m freaking out a little less.

A couple back rubs and scratches on the ear. Everythings’s ok.

I’m still fairly uncomfortable. One more throw.

Two barks and he jumps in.

Back he comes, once again, with the stick. We can do this.

Scratches on both ears. Pats on the head and back.

He quickly turns over. Tummy rub. Things are going well!

I am freaking out even less. His tongue falls out of his mouth and he’s panting happily.

I think we’re safe. This is good.

We bond for a few minutes which I view as a major success. Now, it’s time for me to go.

I have no idea where I am and I have to make it back to some town to hitch hike back to the hostel where I had my tent set up.

I give the doggy a last goodbye.
Or at least I tried.

I go to leave and the doggy follows me. I stop and the doggy stops too.

I look around. There’s nobody in sight. No homes – nada.

I keep walking. Doggy keeps walking.
I stop, doggy stops.

He walks in front of me, and I wonder whether he’s leaving.
I stop.

He stops, turns around, and waits.

I decide to call him Tinto. Tinto is what they call their coffee in Colombia.

What I didn’t know at the time was how many thousands of steps Tinto and I were about to take together. I could never have imagined such a wild adventure was about to unfold with this new friend.