The Bone Collector

I love teaching. I just love having students.

My students are not always the two legged kind. Although I love teaching them too.

Dixie is my winter student. Sundance was to begin her lessons this winter but we ended up using the round pen to store large square bales.

And she loves all kinds of weather. Her hound coat is such that it sheds water and keeps her well insulated.

She is a willing student and thrives on "Good Girl!". 
At this time of year, I like to walk the woods and look for antler sheds. It is a hobby that is really just an excuse to get out and hike during these blah months. The days can be wet and dreary or cold an windy, yet at least there is a purpose to the hike.

I thought it might be fun to try and train Dixie to help me find sheds. She is already a master at finding dead disgusting things from a long distance.

Perhaps we could find antler sheds! I've looked up how to train a shed hunting dog. Apparently it is well known that you need to use retrievers and labs are very popular for this. You need to start the pup out very young. A pup out of shed hunting parents can be purchased for a mere 2 grand. An started dog just $3,500 or a bit more depending on their field experience. A trained dog? Hold onto your seats! Just 6 to 7 grand. Of course that dog will hunt sheds.

Well.
"Dixie! Will you hunt sheds for me?"

I see the twinkle in her eyes and see her brain working. "Haaa----whuuut?" 

Oh well, we'd go have some fun together. I figured since she isn't supposed to a retriever but she will retrieve a ball with gusto we might be able to do other things that a hound like her isn't supposed to do.
I do know she has a fantastic nose. Sometimes too good.

The east wind was cold and damp so we opted to cut through the woods and climb up to the ridge. Facing the winds after warming up would be easier than just walking straight into it.

Yesterday's run off seemed to power freeze. 

We made it to the ridge and I walked along the cropland next to the woods. I've heard from guys I used to work with that were avid shed hunters that this was the prime area to look for antlers.

Dixie checked each trail that went into the woods. She would run in and look around. I'd watch to see if she was finding anything and say "Hey" if I felt she was going in out of my sight.

She'd blast back alongside me and head to the next trail.

Well, I think we were doing something sort of right. I hit my leg twice and Dixie came to sit with me while we watched this deer watch us.

It finally ran off.
Dixie ran down another trail and seemed to find something.

An interesting skull. I picked it up and put it in my back pack and told Dixie "What a Good Girl!"

Wag, wag, wag...twisty wag...

I motioned for her to go ahead of me and off we went again. We got to about where the deer was and she trotted up to something on the ground, gave it a whiff and went on.
A shed!

I stood near it and asked Dixie to come and see. "Look Dixie! Look! This is what we are looking for!"

"Haaaaaa-whuuuut?"

Well. 
I don't think she'll ever understand that I don't allow her to run off and grab deer bones or chase deer, but I would like her to show me an antler.

Rome was not built in a day. I'm sure we can figure this out.
She did take me to bones though. She found them and then ignored them as if to say. I know they are there and I know you don't want me to dig them out of the ice.

Good dog.

I turned and headed up the valley along the creek. Yesterday the waters were raging. Today the creek had retreated to its quiet self. 

When I got to my part of the creek I discovered something very interesting.

The ice flow that had built up during our cold spells was still there but the creek flowed under the ice. Okay, not that strange, but look at this photo that I took by sticking my hand under the ice.

We came home with a skull and an antler shed. We'd hiked nearly 3 miles on rough terrain and we felt good.

The Bone Collectors can't wait to go out again.

Recovery

I probably shouldn't admit this, but losing Morris was extremely painful.

I've had many kind words and condolences.... I have to agree ... No matter how many years a dog lives, it is so very hard ... it never seems like it has been enough time.

My mother in law questioned me on Sunday. I had said something about Morris being ill and not doing well.

She wondered aloud ~ and she was NOT being mean at all ~ "Why would someone have a pet and like them so much to have them go and die. I mean they have such short lives!"

I jumped up and stood ready to be mean. However, her words were not inappropriate. Why on earth do we give our hearts over to pets with such intensity?
I said, "Honey, you are preaching to the wrong choir! Morris is...he is...
I ..."

I looked to my husband who shrugged. 
His mother had never had a pet. Always working farm dogs, outdoor dogs. She wasn't a pet person.
In fact, when Morris was a wee pup...he peed on her shoe.

At 87 years old, she was not going to 'get' the dog/pet/buddy thing. 

I smiled. After all, Morris was doing just fine. 

However. Morris was a typical Jack Russell Terrier. My veterinarian explained one time that JRT's will GO GO GO and suddenly stop. Worry at the stop. They normally don't let you know they have a problem...until...well. There you go.

Morris was fine. Tuesday he ran and played with Dixie in the morning. Tuesday afternoon his life stopped. 

I don't regret our time together. He made it so much richer. He was a pain. He was demanding. He was...simply put, Morris.

"...But you have Dixie!" 

Yes, I have Dixie. The big goof of a hound. Ever loving ... always willing to please.

Dixie. Right now, Dixie is just enough until I figure out what happens next.
Morris left a hole in my heart. But so did so many others. I haven't been able to move his crate. His toys are lined up on a box. I can pick the toys up and hold them close for a moment with my eyes closed.

I couldn't get rid of his red blanket. We always shared it. 

I had to put one of his larger toys on the couch so I could rest my hand on it while I read a book. As I would rest my hand on Morris's body.

Last night I heard him on the stairs.

This morning I swear he woke me up as usual at 5 AM. I found myself putting on my sweatshirt to let him out the porch door.

This morning Dixie helped me with chores. We went to the creek and watched the run off together. She filled an ache and I hugged her hard. I pulled her to me in the snow/icy/slush and buried my face into her shoulders.
She wiggled and then for a few moments, she stood utterly still.

Dixie is helping my.....our...
hearts recover.

And that is all one can ask.

Dixie ~ How can I help you?

Morris watched me get dressed with only mild curiosity.
I sighed, I miss the little dog that would literally spin himself inside out any time he saw me getting ready to go outside and hike.

I dearly dread the day when he will leave us. However he still provides us with fun doggy dementia moments that we instantly feel awful for laughing at.

I gave up all thought of hiking with a tripod this time with Dixie. I wanted to just enjoy a nice hike along the creek after the recent snowfall. I took my Tamron lens on the older Nikon. It is like dragging a ton of bricks compared to the Olypmus Mirrorless OM-5 I normally take. Of course I had the Lumix pocket camera too. The Pink Fugly camera had been misbehaving since its last submergence in mud before deer season.

I headed out with Dixie who gave me one huge bark of joy and then began to walk alongside of me. She kept touching my gloves with her nose as if to make sure I was still coming.

We headed down into the valley. I admired Mother Nature's handiwork.

Dixie seemed to be all work. Her nose was on supercharge.

She did end up finding a mouse nest. I must say, that nose is incredible.
We admired the beauty of the creek and then came out into the open valley.

When I lifted my camera to take this shot it literally took my breath away. I was stunned. I guess you had to be there. But to me it was incredible. We'd just busted through a narrow tangled cluster of willows and thorn bushes to come out to blue sky and pure white snow.

I walked down to the snowmobile crossing. We haven't had enough snow this year for the snowmobiles to run at all. I stepped down next to the creek and took a shot of the water blasting through the culvert.

I then turned and made a huge mistake. I glanced up and behind me to look at the old cottonwood tree against the sky and my foot slipped. I have no idea how I did it but I landed on my left side with a horrid lurch and it was hard!
In my right hand I held the snow splattered camera aloft. It appeared that I saved the camera and lens but damn!

And then the pain hit me. My elbow burned and my leg hurt something awful. I did what any good woman of my age would do in that situation.
I let out a yowl and started cussing as loud as I could. I was hurt, I was angry at myself for not looking and I was really really mad!

I would have sat in the cold snow next to the noisy creek for a long time ... but...

my screeching brought Dixie on the run. The next thing I saw was her big huge snow covered face with frozen slobber across her snout. She stood between my legs where I sat and wobbled her jowls while trying to decide if I should be licked or nosed. The look on her face was as if she were saying.

"You called? How can I help you?"

I started to laugh, still holding the camera aloft, ... now to keep the slobber nose off from the lens. Dixie started to wag her tail furiously. She shook her head and frozen gobbers flew across my glasses. I couldn't help it but laugh harder.

I eventually sorted it all out and decided that I hadn't broken anything or damaged myself too seriously.
I had frozen dog gobbers on my glasses, my upper leg hurt like hell and my elbow was protesting.

Dixie had given me a once over and decided I was over my fit. She went back to hunting interesting smells while keeping an eye on me.
I hobbled along the creek and to the old oak.

I decided to come back to this spot without Dixie next time and set up along exposure if we still had snow.

Then I turned and headed back towards the trail home. Suddenly going home seemed like a dandy idea.

No way to get lost on the trail home. Dixie retraced our footsteps and guided me as if it were now her duty.

I walked past the 'elevator' and decided to follow the creek upstream to another spot that I could climb out.

Dixie went ahead on our frozen creek through the fresh snow. I'm sure she was checking on the safety of the area, assuring herself that there were no obstacles for me to trip on again.