The Kids, Sven and Charlie

I took Sven and Charlie along with me to trim back some brush from the electric fenceline I'd just checked a few days ago. I took my machete and a big pair of nippers.

My Kenosha Pals said I could get it done it just moments if I used one of those weed whackers with the blade.
I replied that I'd cut my foot off. Then I pointed to the instrument that my husband used to use with a blade for that purpose.
It is huge with a back-strap. I'd never be able to control that huge piece of equipment. Thus, the machete and nippers. I also have a hand saw. My husband's chainsaw is too heavy and large for me to operate.
Again.
I'd probably cut something off with it.

Besides March and April are perfect times for fence clearing. You can see where the lines will be running into small patches of briers and other brush. I am going to replace the old electric line just above the creek in the next few weeks and fix the hole in the barbed wire that runs as a line fence. The mules leave the barbed wire alone and as a precaution, I've run a single line on the inside of it to keep them from being too curious about the briers and multiflora rose bushes on the other side.

Charlie was pretty unsure of my machete and wisely stayed well out of the way. He even stood behind me and occasionally put a paw on the back of my legs.

We finished up what I'd set out to do and we went down to the creek where it was play time.

It looks like Charlie is pushing Sven, but he wasn't. I think Charlie was trying to balance on the rock with Sven. Amazingly enough, Sven backed up and did not fall in.

And Sven claims King of Moss Rock.

Off they went trotting and leaping across the rocks, two odd playmates. Sven may not even know he is a goat. Charlie is enamored with Sven. He goes back across the creek if Sven gets 'stuck' by a larger spread of water. He will whine and cry and push Sven around until Sven follows him.

On the trail, Charlie leads and Sven follows. The difference is that Sven stops and grabs a bit to eat as he travels. Charlie thinks Sven is his personal tasty poo machine.
Ick.

When the two of them get to the open pasture, the races are on. Charlie zooms in large circles. Sven runs and leaps sideways with him.
I think it is safe enough to say that these two are enjoying each other's company.

Sven really keeps close. He even helps with the chores and keeps his distance from the mules on the other side of the fence. He and Charlie are nearly inseparable.

This is turning into quite the fun adventure with animals.

Mr. Morris scares the crap out of me

In the interest of not struggling through my 'point' trail with friends on a night hike, I set out yesterday with my machete and some trail tacks that are simply tacks with a reflective coating on their heads.

Mr. Morris was nagging me and it was about time for his new routine of the 3pm walk. I grabbed a leash and decided to see if he'd come along.
Indeed he did.
The cold air didn't seem to bother him a bit. He ran around the meadow, sniffing everything he could. I'd have to call and wave to him so he could catch up. He bounded past me and down an old mule trail avoiding the long grasses.

The meadow can be pretty even in its winter doldrums.

The Mr. Morris sure enjoyed it.

He hesitated when I dove into the woods on the old cow path that is mostly used by deer now. In places trees have come down and multi flora rose bushes have grown up.

Over the years the deer and I adjust to different obstacles to get up and down the steep hillside. Last winter the first time I used this 'trail' at night to bring along my hiking buddy, I got sidetracked. There wasn't enough snow to show a good trail and everything looked similar in the headlamp.

Where the trail went straight, it now zagged around a nasty deadfall.  So I marked the tree with a little tack and used the machete to clear the debris above my head. I normally just duck while going through, but I know that one of the hikers that will go with me later this month is much taller than I am.
Mr. Morris stopped and then backed away. I stopped what I was doing and explained to him what was going on.

He was not impressed, but he gave me a glance and walked past me. He eyed the machete.

I marked the next tree where the path made a 90 degree turn. I freshened the small marks I'd made a couple of years ago.
Morris either walked ahead or followed, stopping to smell things and be just like the normal Morris I've always known.

I stopped marking just above the creek. I could see the Mountain Dew can that hung on a branch further down. I wouldn't mark all the way down to there but set a reflective tack up on a stump so a headlamp would catch it from the Dew Can.

I dropped the box of tacks and bent down to pick them up. I realized that I didn't hear Morris's jingling tags.

I turned around.
He was gone.
I called.
Nothing.
I called louder and heard my voice echo off the valley walls.

Okay. Either Morris wandered off, or decided he'd had enough of hiking. We were actually pretty far from home and it was getting colder down near the creek.
Damn.
"MORRISSSSSS"
Yes, there was a bit of panic in my voice.
I should have leashed him.
Dang it.
I called and called.

Then I stopped. I looked down in the dusting of snow and found some tracks. They were his, but they went in circles and back and forth then off into the leaves on the forest floor.

I stood for a moment.  Did he go home? It would only get colder, so I turned and climbed quickly up the hillside trail. My clearing and marking sure made it much easier, plus my feet had disturbed the leaves and the light dusting of snow.

I got to the meadow. Tall grass. Morris doesn't like tall grass. He'd follow a trail. Those trails had a dusting of snow.
I searched and found his tracks heading towards home. At least I hoped they were. I lost them several times and found them again.

Then they were gone.
However I know that Morris has traveled this way for nearly 14 years and he seemed to know the way home better than I did!

Please Morris. Be home.
Be home so I can be angry with you for causing me this anxiety.

Because if you are not.
I had a headlamp with new batteries in it. I would search and call. I couldn't bear the thought of him being out in 'the wild' on his own. Not with all of the coyotes that hunted at night.
Coyotes. Little dog, nasty coyotes.

I hurried and then ran.

When I walked towards the house Mr. Morris was sitting in the sun behind Rich's truck. He finally noticed me and casually trotted up to me and then walked over to the porch, as if to say.
"My how I had to wait for you! You are so slow! Please let me in so you can feed me."

Did I ever say how punctual he has gotten lately for his feed times??

Morris. He wagged his tail as if our hike was just another successful journey

I was happy. He was happy.
The old dog does know his way home. But he won't be going with me on any hikes again soon.
We will be back to leashes and trails, not wild wood hikes.

Trail Blazing ~by Morris

Sure,  I knew it.  She got out her backpack, and got on her other gear.

I was not going to let her get outside again by herself.

No.  I hadn't been out since the blue ice adventure where she thought it was funny when I was sliding around on the ice.

I thought it was even funnier that she couldn't walk on it without ice cleats.

Anyway when she grabbed my little red leash I knew I was going!
She reached down for me and I jumped into her arms and settled into the crook of her arm.  I braced my back legs on her belt and off we went.

I jumped out of her arms when we got into the woods and raced ahead on the crunchy thin snow.  Last year she had to wear snowshoes to get around, this year, well the snow seems to be a bit lacking.

Then she got out the saw.  I don't like the saw very much, it is a hand saw thing that she uses when she works on clearing trails that have briers and other prickly things grow into them.

The sun was shining and she and I made our way slowly up 'Badger's' trail.  It wasn't used at all last year but she had maintained it to a certain point.

I guessed her goal when she started to work on the briers and multiflora rose.  She was re-routing because of a tree that had come down and the washout that was too narrow and deep to cross any longer.

I kept running around smelling and digging for vole nests or mice nests.  I kept a close eye on her and that sharp thing.
Last year I got my nose very close to it and got it cut.

Finally we made it to the creek and she put the hand saw away.  I knew the way home from here and figured we'd head up the creek.

I was right.

But then she pulled out that camera of hers and started to set up the tripod.

Really?  I was tired.  I was cold, I wanted to go home and maybe look for some really icky things to eat.

But ever the patient assistant that I am, I quietly sat on a rock over the creek and watched.

Then she sat on a rock and called me to her.  I was cold so I felt like a nice warm lap would be a good idea.

Then it was time to head home.  I know the trails as well as she does by now and I rarely wander off of them except to make sure a tree is marked properly or find something very yucky to eat.

It looks like we'll be ready as soon as the weather breaks to take Siera for rides in the woods.

I'm glad.
That means I get to go riding also.
Siera is good about me sitting in the saddle as a passenger.

Life is good.
Perhaps we'll go out and work on more trails soon!