Dogs on boats, and our best Friends in general.

oops

 

Here's a story the Wife wrote and published on our Blog. And since some of you seem to like stories and she wrote it, can't see her upset for me posting it here.

My husband and I love to camp and have made quite a few trips to the National Forest located in the eastern panhandle of West Virginia. We made one of these trips in October after the 911 tragedy. The Air Force was still flying sorties over these mountains because of the proximity to the Washington DC area. This was an eerie feeling. The skies were so empty of air craft and then suddenly you would hear the roar of the fighter jets flying low over the mountain tops. At times you wouldn’t hear the jets until they had passed over and then the reverberation of the engines would echo throughout the valley where we were camped. It was both sobering and awe inspiring, and brought back the horrific sights and sounds of that horrible day, but at the same time made us feel safe. In the area we were camping in, all was peaceful and serene, no sounds except the birds and the creek bubbling over the rocks near where we were camped. It brought home how wonderful our country is, in spite of its problems, that you can still find areas that are very much the same as they were when it was first explored, and can still feel safe to do some exploring of your own.

We were camping in an area that is designated for primitive camping, and that late in the season was not being utilized by a lot of campers. For this type of camping, you are pretty much self-reliant; there are no fast food restaurants, or even stores to purchase supplies for quite a few miles. We try to bring everything we feel we will need with us. We arrived at our campsite at 10:00 AM, and spent a few hours getting the camp set up. This “setup” entails getting the camper leveled, digging a fire pit, and getting organized. We then had to gather firewood, which even in the middle of the forest can present a problem. You can only use wood from downed trees, or is otherwise lying on the ground. You are not allowed to cut any standing trees; fortunately we found a tree that had fallen by the roadside, that my husband cut into firewood. I loaded the cut pieces into the truck, which we stacked and covered with a tarp, when we returned to our camp site.

By this time it is later in the afternoon, I prepared our dinner while my husband started a bon fire in the fire pit. Our Golden Retriever, King, accompanied us on this trip, as well as many others, he loved to swim and spent a lot of time in the creek chasing frogs and sticks. When he had finally exhausted himself, he stretched out by the fire and promptly went to sleep. We normally sit around the camp fire in the evening and listen to music, but on this trip, it didn’t feel appropriate, we sat and listened to the night sounds and the creek as it passed over the rocks, and spoke of how fortunate we were. The sound of this creek lulled us to sleep quickly when we climbed into our sleeping bags for the night.

The next day dawned clear and crisp, and we decided to hike some of the trails that were near the camp grounds. These trails are well marked and intersect with other trails up and down the mountains. I considered myself to be in really good shape, from exercising and walking a lot. We did the first trail that is 3 miles long and then decided to take another intersecting trail to go further up the mountain, by this time King and I are beginning to lag behind, and I’m beginning to doubt the idea of taking the second trail. When the dog and I finally catch up to my husband and pause to catch our breath, I was told this was going to be a short break, because we still had a long way to go to get back down the mountain before dark settled in. He reminded me that we had made no provisions for staying out in the open for the night and that we didn’t have a flashlight with us. Needless to say, I suddenly found strength to keep walking, the dog seemed to understand the urgency and picked up his pace also. We made it down the mountain just as the sun was beginning to set, but the place we came out was a mile from where we started, and had left the truck. My husband suggested that the dog and I wait and he would retrieve the truck, I gratefully agreed, but our old dog didn’t, he followed my husband off down the road to the truck, in spite of me. The dog and my husband made it back to where I was waiting, just as dark settled in completely and I was getting very cold. That dog was so tired that he flopped down by the fire, and didn’t move for quite awhile. We ate a cold supper and fell into bed. The next morning I had trouble getting all the parts of me to move without protesting. The dog seemed fine and was back to chasing frogs in the creek. My husband suggested teasingly, that another hike would work all the kinks in my muscles out, however I think he got the point; that was not going to happen. When we did the math on the meandering path that we had taken, we discovered that we had walked over 10 miles.

Our dog died about two years later, but I think often of his determination and loyalty and how much he enjoyed playing in that creek. Some days when I'm feeling overwhelmed by all that is going on in this great country, I think of King with his big heart and devotion to us, It gives me the strength to take a deep breath and keep going. This trip added to my cache of stories to tell my grandchildren, and they seem to particularly enjoy this one. It was a special trip.

 

Funny how dogs live up to the names we give them.

 

Going well back into the past now: my first dog was Jenny as you will have already read. Her grandfather Sean was my hunter buddy Dan's first dog. One day Dan got lost in the bush. After wandering around for 2 hours looking for some sign of his truck, he had a bright idea. He told the dog "kennel" which was the command to jump into the truck. The dog immediately headed off in a new direction and within 10 minutes they were back at the truck.

My lab had the same ability. When she was getting too old to work I was demonstrating Tiffany's pointing technique to a couple of friends and Jenny got bored and wandered off. I reassured my friends -who were worried- that she would just go back and wait for us at the car, and we headed back over the fields. Sure enough half-way back we found her, mooching cookies from some people she had found on the way. Typical lab.

The first pic is Tiffany, the second one is Jenny. I used to travel a lot back then and Jenny would try all sorts of things to stop me leaving. She always knew. Here she is lying in my suitcase!

 

My old dog Zeus could get lost in his own back yard

he did however have a great nose
once when he got lost he sniffed out a truck owned by a friend and stayed there till I came and got him
my buddy called sayin my dog was trying to jump in his truck

as I said
Zeus was not the sharpest tack in the drawer

another time we went camping and he wandered off
I thought it was all over but when we got back to the cars after several days there he was
looking all sheepish as if to say oops
also ready for some food

if he only had a brain

B

 

I had a little Cairn Terrier mix years ago. And I was driving an old 1950 Dodge delivery van at the time--looked like a modern UPS truck, complete with sliding doors, but with a normal truck's front end stuck on it, hood, fenders, bumper, grille and all.. I had it fixed up as a camper, and lived in it about half the time. The joys of college on the GI bill....and being a bachelor.

Anyway...I spent an afternoon and evening putting around town taking care of miscellaneous business and shopping one day, and after dark I suddenly realized I hadn't seen hide nor hair of my little pooch for a while. I thought back, and decided maybe he had hopped out while I was getting gas about four hours before. So I drove to the station, and sure enough: there he was.

The attendant said he had insisted on lying exactly where the door of my Dodge had been while I was getting gas--probably because that's where my scent trail ended. If a car pulled in for gas or someone tried to pet him he moved, but zeroed right back in as soon as he could.

My dad had an old red retriever of some sort named Ike when I was born, and he lived more than twenty years. One day when I was a baby he was driving a logging truck in Oregon, and when he got home Ike wasn't in the cab. About three days later, he started thinking about a sharp curve he had taken faster than normal. So he drove back up the mountain, and sure enough: there was Ike by the side of the road, wondering what had taken him so long to show up.

 

All these stories of lost dogs reminded me of one of the times one of mine vanished. The wife and I were walking through the local park with some overseas guests when we realized Tiffany the (Brittany) was no longer with us. I didn't bother keeping an eye on my dogs once they were trained to do the job. I don't have the energy to do that level of training these days. We kept going around the lake and returned to the bridge and there she was, waiting at the last place she had seen us.

Brittany's are very visual, unlike most dogs. When my poodle cross got lost I just turned around and went straight back along the same path I and followed on the way out. Sure enough he was just running up and down the trail following the scent.

It pays to know your dog. If your dog is a scent tracker and you lose him, never create a scent loop or he may just keep running around in circles.

I could hide from my hunting dogs just by taking a big step off the trail downwind and standing next to a tree with my arm out. Most of them thought I was a tree and would barrel along right past me., but the Brit would see me every time. The lab was smart though, and soon caught on. She'd just run downwind a few feet and track me from there.

 

I've enjoyed hearing about everyone's favorite...and not so favorite four legger. I've been tolerated for eight years by a 110lb female Bullmastiff. She loves to hike...boating, not so much!

 

Since we all like to have our pets happy and hopefully free of hitch-hikers such as fleas have you heard of or tried vinegar in their drinking water? A few of my past pets have had big problems with them and adding a bit of it in their water sure seemed to work for mine. I just found in looking for a resource that it appears to have a lot of benefits for humans too.

How about skunks? I saved a clipping from a well respected outdoor magazine from years ago, and they claimed this remedy really worked.

Skunk Be Gone: A skunks musk is the essence of putrid rot, a concentration of the same aromatic chemicals found in decomposing flesh. Luckily skunks only spray when threatened. If you or your dog falls victim, forget the tomato juice bath. Follow this recipe proven by chemists to neutralize skunk smell:
1 Quart of hydrogen peroxide
1/4 cup baking soda
and 1 teaspoon liquid soap
Wash with the mixture while it's still bubbling.

 

Our vet prescribes a product called Revolution which is intended to prevent heartworm, a nasty desease and endemic in this area. There are several such products around. The product also protects against fleas; have never seen one on our dogs although we had occasional flea problems with out cats. Not cheap though.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5G85m0DEc0w

 

ok the air canoe is pretty dam funny

 

Yeah, but my helper was King. That is the only movie I have of him.

 

so was the fan able to get the canoe moving or was it just an on board air conditioner

 

My family's had pets longer than they've had me.... except for a gap of a couple of years, we've always had at least one dog and/or cat. Don't really know what we'd do without them.

Keisha was the first; she was the product of a chance encounter between a Samoyed owned by a friend of my parents, and the remarkably athletic black Lab that lived on the other side of the fence. She had the colour scheme of a sixty-pound Holstein cow, and the shedding ability of the Sam and the Lab combined. What a sweet dog, the absolute perfect temperament for a family pet..... even near the end when her hips were going and we would have to lift her into the van. She had a cool, shady spot under the bow deck of the aluminum skiff that she loved, close to all the action and with the cold water against the hull to counteract the combination of arctic-dog fur and Ontario summer sun.

Raven (see below) is quite a different critter, but we love him too.... he's a Briard, an ancient French herding dog. Far too smart for his own good; he can figure out compound sentences with subordinate clauses. We've had to switch to obscure French synonyms for "walk" after he figured out "perambulate with the canine". Some of his kennel-mates at the breeder learned how to work the power windows and locks in the car. He doesn't wander- we're his flock, and he'll run around to pull the group together if we start to split up when hiking. Raven loves the boat, and he'll swim (with difficulty).... but man, is that coat ever a pain to brush....

My wife and I are hoping to get a big fluffball of our own soon (Pyrenees, Leonberger, and similar big breeds are on the list), if only to see how our tiny, somewhat eccentric cat reacts....