Saturday, 6:00 a.m.
The alarm goes off. My girlfriend, Lauriane, gets up early for her 12-hour ICU shift. I'm still groggy when I hear her gently telling our dog, Ouka, to stay inside the van. Not time for adventures yet.
8:00 a.m.
After a couple more hours of light sleep, the sun starts warming the Alpine air. Ouka senses I'm waking up and immediately perks up, tail wagging, ready to greet the day. I open the van door, and he happily settles into a shady spot outside.
8:30 a.m.
We eat breakfast — or at least I try to. Ouka finishes his food in seconds and then sits beside me, staring intently, hoping for a bite of mine. Classic.
While I sip my coffee, I check the weather forecast. Clear skies, mild temps, and a light south breeze expected later — perfect for a hike-and-fly.
9:00 a.m.
My backpack is packed: ultralight paraglider, harness, helmet, water bottles (one flexible for Ouka), a snack bar, and my 360-degree camera. Everything we need fits into a compact load, letting us take off almost anywhere.
Ouka watches me put on my hiking shoes — his cue that something exciting is about to happen. I strap him into his canicross harness and we begin our ascent, slowly, taking time to warm up and, of course, let him do his business.
10:30 a.m.
We reach the takeoff point. I hydrate, eat a bit, and study the breeze. It’s still light, but steady. Looks promising.
Ouka, meanwhile, is working the crowd. His favorite game? Collecting pets and scratches from fellow pilots. He’s a social pro and never fails to find someone willing to spoil him.
11:30 a.m.
The glider is laid out, the wind feels just right — it's time.
I help Ouka into his custom flying harness, made right here in France. He’s calm, as always. Heights have never phased him — he even enjoys standing on cliff edges and gazing down like a seasoned mountaineer.
When I was first getting him used to the glider, I’d reward him with treats every time he came near. Over time, I taught him a special command: “Take off.” That’s his cue to come between my legs and get ready to run with me. He always has the option to back out — believe me, if he doesn’t want to do something (like take a bath), he makes it very clear.
11:35 a.m.
“Take off, Ouka!” He trots into position. I clip him to my harness, wait for a good gust of wind, then call out, “OK, let’s go!”
I inflate the glider, everything checks out — “Run! Run! Run, Ouka!”
A few powerful steps, and suddenly we’re lifted into the sky. We’re flying.
Up here, Ouka is totally relaxed. I tuck my feet under his paws so we stay connected. I scratch his head now and then, but we mostly just enjoy the silence and the view.
We soar above the mountains, spotting wild animals, other gliders, and hikers far below. The breeze in his fur, the sun on our backs — this is our happy place.
11:50 a.m.
After about 15 minutes in the air, our landing site comes into view. I rise up in my harness, shift our angle, and prepare for touch-down.
The breeze is just right — we glide down gently, landing smoothly, almost as if we could’ve landed on a box of eggs without cracking a single one.
I unclip Ouka and pull off his harness. He immediately leans into me for a big cuddle, his tail wagging like crazy. Moments like this — pure joy — remind me what having a dog is all about.
We chat with some other pilots, then pack up our gear and start the hike back. Time to head home … and run errands.
7:00 p.m.
Groceries done. We’ve parked the van in a new scenic spot, and I start cooking dinner as Ouka lounges in the fresh mountain air.
Then we hear Lauriane’s car. Ouka perks up instantly — he knows that sound. He sprints to the door to greet her after a long shift. His excitement is contagious.
Before Ouka, life looked very different for me. I was in a dark place — depressed, jobless, heartbroken, and broke, struggling through the pandemic. Adopting Ouka gave me a reason to get out of bed. Rain or shine, sad or happy, he needed to go outside. And that meant I had to go outside too.
Ouka had been abandoned and returned to the shelter twice. We were both a little broken — and we healed together. He gave me purpose. And, incredibly, he led me to love. Lauriane was his dog sitter when I met her.
Now, I look at my little family — Ouka, Lauriane, and the mountains — and realize happiness was always closer than I thought. I don’t know where the road leads next, but with these two by my side, I know it’ll be one amazing adventure.
To follow our journey and see more of Ouka’s airborne escapades, find us on Instagram.
