That Little Dog

Charlie has a job to do. Well, he thinks he has a job to do.

He is watching the trees for squirrels. The squirrels like to come and clean up any seed on the ground near the bird feeder that has seed in it. 

I put out a cup of seed each day in the feeder so hubby can enjoy his morning coffee and tell me which birds show up.

Charlie watches the yard for any squirrels. And ... he is diligent.

This is his new mission in life. It's so fun to see him so intent. The one tree is a hickory tree so squirrels climb it often and then dig in the yard and bury the nuts. Charlie is also on top of that. After all, it is good that he has a job.

I'm pretty sure he sees the squirrels this way:

On very hot days though, I have to be careful with him. His short snout makes it hard for him to cool off quickly. I went for a walk on our gravel road with him just to get out and move around. On our way back home Charlie sat down in the shade and stopped.

He was puffing and hot. Bad me! 

I picked him up and carried him most of the way back home. When he got inside, he laid on the cool floor and just stared at me with those big round eyes of his.

Eventually he got up on the couch and relaxed.

This Little Dog has a great life and we know our lives are enriched by having him with us.

That Tough Little Dog

Thursday morning, I looked at the weather and decided that even if it was really windy, I would go on my hike.

There are ways to avoid winds when you live in an area that is steeped with hills and valleys.

Charlie is finally getting used to his Hi-Vis vest. It isn't a coat but more of a canvas vest with bright colors and reflective strips on it. He gets excited now when I bring it out of its basket. He knows we are going on a car ride and hike. 

You would think that such a short little dog like him would be reluctant to go on hikes.
Nope. Charlie lives for cooler weather and adventure. 

Of course he has been raised as a hiking dog from the get go. So he doesn't know that most of his kind of mixed breed prefer the couch and long days of napping. He can do that too, in fact he can excel at it. 

Now if I grab a backpack he is on high alert and watches me like a hawk.

Once we got on the trail, he trotted forward. He does stop and make sure I am coming along. A few times he slowed to a crawl and had me go ahead. He seemed hesitant. He may have smelled coyotes or other creatures.

Cellphone shot looking up at Hanson's Rock

Trail below Hanson's Rock.
I love both the trail that goes on top of the rock and the steep
trail that goes around the bottom of the rock formation.

Short video of a 360 view of where we were standing-- almost 30 seconds.

It was an amazing walk through the steep valleys near Hanson's Rock. Parts of the trail were pretty intense for footing because of the deep leaves. Under the leaves there are roots and rocks that would be ankle turners if one didn't exercise caution. 

I even broke off a nice stick and used it as a walking stick to negotiate the worst section. I do recall riding this part of the trail in 1996 and being thankful that I was on a mule that seemed not to be bothered by the footing.

We headed down towards the most remote campsite on the Kickapoo Valley Reserve at campsite F. From any trail head you choose, it is over a 3 mile trek to get to. Charlie and I took a break there and shared and apple and some water.

We found the foundation of the old spring house and explored that. The fresh watercress smelled amazing.

The rest of our journey was rather unexciting, we just tried to hurry up a bit so I could get home before dark. We took the West Ridge trail back which is wider than some of the other trails and is better maintained.

I thought Charlie would collapse and fall asleep in his little car seat. He didn't. He sat up and made sure I navigated properly in order to get home.

Once at home, he shed his vest and assisted me with chores before taking a snooze on the couch.

That is one tough little dog!

5.81 miles

I 'yam Twila-wila!

I 'yam going to start at the end and go backwards. I mean why not? Or maybe sort of in the middle.

Sometimes I lose my train of thoughts and they get jumbled around.

Chuck, can I call him Chuck? He prefers Char--lie. Any way, my little pal and I rode in the car together and it worked! I sat on my bed in back and he sat in his car seat up front. 

We went back to the Big Reserve.

Oh wait. I forgot about our day of rest and hunting fungi and slime mold. I wasn't interested in it at all but the Grandma showed me how to sit patiently while she fiddled with her camera thing and explored itty bitty things.

I gotta admit. She's weird. Some of the stuff she looked at was boring. I thought the mule poop next to it was delicious but she only let me have a quick bite.

Anyyy wayz.

We went on a trail called Hay Valley. I don't know what that was but there were a lot of deer smells. A crazy man on a mountain bike came down and around a sharp hill turn and almost ran us over. The Grandma grabbed me and Charlie ran in circles. The man apologized and said he was going too fast. His fault.

Whatever. I got scared.

The rest of the hike/walk/sniff fest was pretty nice except when it seemed to get really hot for Charlie. We had plenty of water breaks and rests. I learned to drink out of a large lid that the Grandma put water in for us. I even shared with Charlie!

Charlie gave the Grandma a signal that he was tired so she picked him up and carried him for a while, especially when we had to go through longer grass. Charlie's legs are very short. But since he is so little, he climbs under logs while I have to jump over.

But I like jumping. The Grandma says I have jumping beans in me. I don't what that means either.

We were so lazy when we got home, we just laid around.

This morning the Grandma said we needed to go for a sunrise walk to take some pretty pictures.

I guess my Mom and Dad really miss me, so I am going to go back home. I hope Charlie lets me come again and visit so I can eat his food, push him around, and lick his ears. Mostly I liked hiking with him. He is so brave and unascared. 

Dad called me Twila-wila in a post so maybe I 'yam 

Twila-wila
the adventurer-er.

Wardrobe Failures!

 

She bought this horrible ugly nasty icky thingy. 

OH and She was so excited to put it on me. 

She took photos of me eating my supper.

Then it happened. Jacket Failure. 

When She let me outside to do my business. I kept putting my foot through the neck hole and falling on my face.

I was happy, she was not. Over the years she tried with some dog named Morris to get him a blaze orange vest. Apparently he destroyed it in one outing. The fleece got full of snow and so many burrs that it was never usable again. 

Then someone who had seen Mr. Morris's coat predicament sent him one of her dog's old coats. 

Another coat failure. 

She explained all of this to me patiently while she scratched her head. 

My short little legs seem to be an issue. When I run or leap, they get stuck in the jacket. So she tried tightening it. 
Nope.

Phew, after a few more tries, She removed the obnoxious thing and decided to think about the problem over night. 

I hoped SHE would forget it. But She didn't.

She took some craft twine and tied up the neck/leg holes to make them tighter so my legs wouldn't get stuck.
I am So embarrassed.

But then she let me outside for a morning walk! I was so happy to get out in the snow that I took off ... faster than the speed of light. Okay, I exaggerate. 

Wow! I guess you can see me really well! It worked great on the driveway and it started out okay in the woods too.

Then it happened again. My tiny legs got caught up in the belly thingy. How embarrassing to be jumping a log and BIFF. Land on my face in the snow because one leg got tucked under in the belly thing.

She removed it. I could tell She had more thinking to do. She stuffed the offensive jacket in her pocket and we had a nice walk after all.

She said she really needed to figure out how to make the jacket work. I guess I am hard to spot in the woods. 

Can you find me? I'm in this shot.

She grumbled a lot and I could see smoke coming from under her hat, She was thinking hard!

She found some pretty red Barberry berries to take a picture of and then we walked out to the road.

At the road, She put the jacket thing back on me. On the flat surface and just walking, the jacket did fine. 

And apparently I can be seen.

However there needs to be another adjustment.

She needs to figure out how to keep my short legs from getting caught in the belly thingy.

Back at home we worked on that.

I AM a very patient dog.
Very. 
She came up with a possible solution. She cut up an old shirt and fit part of the sleeve over the jacket like a horse cinch.

It might just work. We'll have to see what today brings as it will be our last day before the gun hunting season and we don't go for walks during that time no matter how bright our jackets are.

Relentless

 

This is about Charlie. 

He is a mix of Pekinese and Mini Dachshund. The Dachshund in him requires that he hunt and that he hunt hard. Here he is searching out mice and voles in the snow. He captured a vole just a few days ago. He is all about getting another one, even if the last one bit him on the lip. He will track any animal and believes deer are game for the chase.

His little size means he can't chase well. He usually stands after he loses sight of the deer and just looks around. After all, he is a low rider. His chest is 3 inches from the ground.

The Pekinese in him asks that he be extremely loyal to a member of the household. And Lazy when it suits him. He tolerates me, but fawns over Rich. Here he is on his pile of blankets on the loveseat couch. He looks entirely enthused about my hat on his head doesn't he?

The moment Rich comes in to sit next to him, he sprawls against my husband. Rich's hand absently reaches down and pets him. Charlie's eyes close and nothing else in the world matters. 

In the mornings, Charlie waits for Rich to get up and then fusses over 'The Great Awakening' making sure I know WHO is important in our household.

This all from the little puppy I brought home that Rich objected to. 

"What good is he? Just a fru fru dog!" 

Charlie has been anything but the couch potato. He has become the Therapy Dog that I did not intend him to be. He has shown great wisdom in Who in the house needs his comfort.

And when it suites him, he is relentless on mice and voles.

What a happy accident this was for us. 

The Hunt for Blue Ice

In 2015, Mr. Morris and I found an amazing place where spring seeped water out between rocks in a deep dry run.
In the summer this area stays shadowed because of its position and the heavy forest canopy.

In the winter the trees are bare and the winter sun barely breaks over the edge of the ridge. The water seeps and freezes, seeps and freezes. 

I used to think that certain minerals caused the ice to look a certain color. I may be a little right when water seeps over red clay and gives the ice a reddish orange color. But blue ice has a different explanation. It has to do with the the light refraction and what part of the light spectrum is absorbed and which color is reflected.

All that aside. 

In 2015, the ice looked blue.

I wanted to take Charlie to the East end of the valley and see if the ice was forming with the sudden freeze we'd had.

The land I hike on is nearly one square mile of uninhabited land with two valleys and two streams. It has been referred to as one of the more remote pieces of land in the county. And this is my neighbor's family owned land. 
Charlie and I got no more than halfway down the valley when someone in the far distance started shooting. It was far off, but it echoed down the valley. It sounded as like an assault rifle.

Poor Charlie became a Pekenhund Puddle of nerves. Or if you like a PekenPuddle. Anytime I knelt down to peer at something interesting or try to photograph it, Charlie pawed his way into my lap, my leg, or tried to get on my back if I was low enough.
Poor thing. I picked him up and carefully continued down the valley carrying him over icy rocks and negotiating stream crossings.

The Big Spring

When we got to the Big Spring, Charlie could barely be consoled. I had to photograph this while sitting on a root with my feet planted in the spring water and Charlie in my lap. 

This spot is always interesting. This huge spring bubbles up at the base of this steep hill. In cold snaps anything sticking out of the spring is covered in beautiful frost.

The gunfire stopped and we headed around the bend towards the steep dry run.

And it was a beautiful sight.
Charlie and I made our way up the dry run to the tiny spring.

Here is what happens when Charlie 'helps'. I was trying to photograph the tiny spring seeping out of the rocks...

You guessed it, whoever got the assault rifle had reloaded and was popping off again in the far distance. That was too close for Charlie.

We were done. We found the Blue [ish] Ice and visited the Big Spring. The little dog was ready to go home and dive into his blankets on the couch for a long nap.

...and I felt good deep inside.

Nature always seems to do that for me.