The next morning Diba bounced up, tail wagging, as happy as can be.

She took on a new role that day - shepherd. She’d trot along, checking on everyone. Sometimes in front, middle, or back of the pack.

Whenever the group split into the slow ones and the fast ones, she’d give a loud whine and look back and forth, trying to pick a side. The young grasshopper hadn't learned patience yet, so she usually went with the fast one.

That day, she crossed vast fields of rocks with ancient carvings, valleys, slot canyons, and dry river beds. Once at camp we were feasting, and behold, the group of college kids wanders in. Wearing headlights, treading in the dark, cold, and still had another 3km to get to their camp. Even when there’s less than a dozen around the table, Jordanians always make enough food to feed a village, so we had plenty to spare.

And on the final day, Diba took in the sights, and the power naps. She’d know to milk every single second, like a child who is tired of walking. Only when all backpacks were on and the last person started walking, would she bounce up and run ahead to be behind the first.

The third night we saved 11kms of walking on a paved road and hopped into the back of a truck. Diba’s first car ride.

That didn’t go very smoothly. She liked trails much more than she liked cars.

And all too soon, it was time to say goodbye to this pup. Habu took her home, which is hopefully her full time destination. The grand plan to convince his pregnant wife involved getting his 3 year old girl to side with him. (I later learned Diba ran away on the first night and was found).

Diba will be back on the trail soon enough.

Another trek to Petra or to Wadi Rum.

Another group of foreigners to shepherd through the journey.