The straight truth is that I take the dog because I love him and he loves to come hiking. I hope to remain safe in spite of him, not because of him. More than once, I have heard an ominous cracking and scuffling in the forest followed by my dog tearing through the woods and back to the trail with a speed that would impress Mario Andretti. At these times, I pray that he is not being pursued by an irate bear or a miffed moose. If he is being pursued, both of us could be toast. While this realization is energizing, it is not comforting.
I remember clearly the day that Gail and I hiked into a moose foraging south of town. The dog, feigning deafness to my repeated pleadings, "Here, Max!" decided to chase the young bull moose. The moose initially reacted by trotting off, but then thought the matter over. On consideration, the moose adopted the philosophy of Dirty Harry. He circled back to the spot in the trail where the dog had first barked at his heels, and assumed a decidedly, "Try it again, buddy, and make my day," type of attitude.
That day I learned my dog is smarter than a lot of people I know. He can read a situation fairly well. Max came to my call and submitted peacefully to being leashed. Because we dislike hospital stays and have no funeral insurance, Gail and I changed our hiking route and hiked back home another way.
Another time Gail and I hiked into an elk at the top of the Bilk Mountain trail. Before we even knew the elk was there, Gail's Airedale, Sarah, chased it. Sarah returned to us, limping badly. And she limped for the next week. Game animals first react by running. Unlike me, they can think and run at the same time. Upon reflection, a game animal realizes that he can take out a dog with the efficiency of a patriot missile. And the game animal is entirely correct.
My hiking adventures have taught me that taking the dog can be fun for the dog. I like making both me and the dog happy as we hike. The more I take the dog along, the more he learns to obey: come when called, leaves things when commanded. The dog can alert me to dangers in the area. But the dog can be a danger to me and to himself. I bear that in mind when hiking.
That day I learned my dog is smarter than a lot of people I know. He can read a situation fairly well. Max came to my call and submitted peacefully to being leashed. Because we dislike hospital stays and have no funeral insurance, Gail and I changed our hiking route and hiked back home another way.
Another time Gail and I hiked into an elk at the top of the Bilk Mountain trail. Before we even knew the elk was there, Gail's Airedale, Sarah, chased it. Sarah returned to us, limping badly. And she limped for the next week. Game animals first react by running. Unlike me, they can think and run at the same time. Upon reflection, a game animal realizes that he can take out a dog with the efficiency of a patriot missile. And the game animal is entirely correct.
My hiking adventures have taught me that taking the dog can be fun for the dog. I like making both me and the dog happy as we hike. The more I take the dog along, the more he learns to obey: come when called, leaves things when commanded. The dog can alert me to dangers in the area. But the dog can be a danger to me and to himself. I bear that in mind when hiking.
Hikes sure do make happy dogs.
ReplyDeleteI'll remember that about dogs if we ever get one . . . :)
ReplyDelete