Rattlesnake Ridge / Ledge

I'm going to say it is officially hiking season, though Pongo and I have been hiking for a few months. But this is the time of year we really get geared up.  I was thrilled when friend and school psychologist, Julia and her dog Zed invited us to hike Rattlesnake Ridge last weekend.  It is a popular trail that I have heard of, but never hiked.  Located in North Bend in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, it is a quick 2 miles to Rattlesnake Ledge where there are spectacular views. Four miles roundtrip, it is easy to fit in and then return to the city for other weekend activities.

If you know anything about Western Washington, then you know there are no rattlers on this side of the state.  So if that gets you wondering how this mountain got its name, the story goes like this: Seattle pioneer Arthur Denny gave the area its name when a frightened road surveyor thought he was being attacked by a rattlesnake after hearing seed pods rattling on a nearby meadow.


Julia and I had planned to meet at 8:30, but since I had never been there, I ended up parking in the wrong lot 1/2 a mile down the road and then couldn't get cell service. After 10 minutes of waiting, I decided to drive a little farther and was shocked to find that the parking lot at the trailhead is enormous!  It was well after 9 before I found her.  Finally together, Pongo and Zed posed with Julia near Rattlesnake Lake, which lies below the mountain near the trailhead.  I was even more shocked at the number of people heading for the trail.  We saw families and groups of friends of all ages, boy scout groups and hoards of teenage girls.  There were dogs of all sizes from chihuahuas to pitbulls and German Shepherds, and oh so many Aussies!  And two Corgies - my daughter would not forgive me if I left out the Corgies.  (She has been asking for one, to which I give the typical parent answer: maybe someday.)

Pongo started out on the trail in front, but didn't keep the lead for long.  Afterall Zed is ten years younger than him at least! Julia and I chatted, but surprisingly not about work.  Usually it is so hard not to leave that behind.  When you work with children, there are kids you worry about and can't get out of your head and heart.  But on this day we talked about our own personal lives and of course, our dogs.  As we passed back and forth over the switchbacks crossing the mountain, gaining 1160 feet to the ledge.  I was surprised at how quickly we emerged at the top.  It was an easier hike than Little Si, which is a bit of a struggle near the top.  

  

We sat down for a snack of oatmeal cookies
 made by my husband and peanut butter sandwiches.  

From the ledge you can see Rattlesnake Lake below.

Views of Mt. Si and Mt. Baker can also be seen.

A trail led up this mountain ridge too,
but we did not venture up it today.

Julia and Zed relax at the top of the ledge

A couple stops to survey the scene.

What a beautiful hike! We didn't stay long at the ledge and quickly headed back down. The trail became more and more crowded as the morning disappeared. Julia and I were both glad we had come, but the trail felt a little claustrophobic the longer we were on the mountain.  I was sweating through my T-shirt and was thankful for the shade all along the trail. When we reached the lake again, Pongo stood for 15 minutes with his paws in the water, lapping up its coolness and quenching his thirst.  I sat enjoying the view on the beach, watching kayaks cross the lake. 

Rattlesnake Lake

I don't recommend hiking this on a weekend this time of year.  Go during the week or get there by 7 am.  At noon the parking lot was full and there were already more than fifty cars parked along the sides of the road to the park entrance.  But this is a must-see for hikers in Western Washington.  It is a unique place.   I am drawn to the views of the lake.

I am counting down to the last days of school. Now there are only four more days left.  Pongo and I are looking so forward to a summer of hiking.  Visiting old favorites and exploring new ones alike. Stay tuned!

The Gem of Taking the Road Less Traveled

Pongo and I left the house at 8 am yesterday and headed for Mt. Peak.  Pongo whined excitedly standing between the front seats and balancing on the emergency brake. It was overcast and 50 degrees, the quintessence of a Pacific Northwest Spring day.  It rained sporadically as I slowly climbed the mountain.  I was quickly soaked by rain and sweat, stopping to rest now and then.  There were not many hikers on this Saturday, but we still ran into some of Pongo’s doggie friends.  We saw Gunner, a Chesapeake Bay Retriever and hunting dog who stands a couple inches taller than Pongo at the shoulder.  They circled and sniffed their hellos.   Next, we ran into Max, an Australian Shepherd Pongo met a few months ago at the Bonney Lake Dog Park. We see Max and his owner climbing Mt. Peak almost every time we go now. They were excited to see each other, did some play bowing, jumps and twirls. 

Instead of going to the top like we always do, I decided to take a right instead of a left three-quarters of the way up.  I had heard that this trail went around the backside of the mountain to a road. Because the trail didn’t circle back to the main path, I had never explored it, always with the excuse of not having enough time.   But I didn’t feel rushed to get back home and decided it was a good day to explore.  This path was wider, straighter and gently sloped downward.  The ground was so wet that when I stopped for a drink, my hiking poles stood upright in the soil by themselves. 

 After climbing the steep incline of the main trail that consists of frequent switchbacks and quick gains in elevation, I was thrilled to be going downhill.  It began to narrow and branch off into other trails that jutted off into the woods.  I quickly realized that there was a lot more exploring that could be done on Mt. Peak than I ever imagined.   Many small trails spread out across the backside of the mountain.    Each time I came across a new path, I had to decide which way to turn.

Now I have never had a good sense of direction and I am famous for getting lost, even with directions.  I can have trouble driving to a location even if I have been there before.  Things look different to me at different times of day.  If I have driven somewhere in daylight, there is no guarantee that I will be able to find it at night. Once, Pongo and I got lost while hiking in the Shenandoah mountains and had to be rescued by a park ranger.  But on this particular day, I remembered the voice of a friend who came to visit me in Namibia when I was a WorldTeach volunteer.

Wendi Haugh was an anthropology student in graduate school who stayed with me for a week.  She wanted to do research on national identity among Oshiwambo-speaking people, and she was looking for a fieldsite (a place to do her work).  Oshiwambo was the Bantu dialect spoken by the Owambo people in Northern Namibia.  I took her to visit the rural homes of women I worked with.  One day we walked into the bush to call on a woman name Atanasia who lived a few miles away.  To me, the landscape all looked the same.  But Wendi, a hiker herself, knew something about survival skills.  She told me that you should periodically turn around to look at the landscape in reverse so you would recognize it on your return.  We took note of our footprints in the sand.  But much of the path Pongo and I took yesterday was full of pebbles.  I didn't see my footprints in the ground.  Instead, I broke off a branch at one juncture and placed the stick in a puddle to mark the trail where I'd have to turn.  At another juncture, I drew an X in the mud with one of my hiking poles.  

 Down the hill we went.  The narrow path opened up into a wide gravel one that looked like a service road. We began to encounter other hikers again, ones coming up from the backside.  Pongo walked along the edge of the road to avoid the thickest chunks of gravel.  Finally, we came to the end where a gate separated the gravel from the main asphalt road that circled the mountain. There was no parking lot, but people had left their vehicles along the road.

Yea!  We'd come out on the other side!  Now I could say I knew where the trails on the other side of the mountain were!  I felt excited.  This opened up many more options for hiking on Mt. Peak.   I now had an alternate more gentle path to follow on days where I didn't feel like climbing the steep one to the summit. 

Here we turned around and started back the way we had come.   This time on the way up, I walked into a clearing for a water break and discovered a memorial.  Pongo and I paid our respects then began our climb again.  I had noticed there were two older men who had stopped to chat nearby.  "Do you know who this memorial is a tribute to?" I asked.  I made the assumption that they were locals.  Mt. Peak always seemed to be a community mountain to me, that only nearby hikers in the surrounding areas knew.   And they were.

They told me a story about three servicemen from Ft. Lewis who died in a Black Hawk helicopter crash during a night training flight two days before Christmas, 2006.  They hit the side of the mountain in the clearing where the homemade memorial marks the spot.  They were members of the 4th Squadron, 6th Air Cavalry Regiment and were scheduled to be deployed to Iraq the next year. The crew consisted of 25-year-old Sergeant Thomas L. Clarkston, 32-year-old Chief Warrant Officer Patrick J. Paige and 33-year-old Chief Warrant Officer James E. Whitehead. 

One of the men who told me the story was a Vietnam Veteran who served two tours of duty himself.  I told him about my cousin, Phillip, a marine who was killed in Afghanistan in 2010.  Our conversation turned to talking about the difficulties of military service today and of the challenges servicemen and women face in getting adequate medical care from the V.A. 

I felt a little like my Dad, who was a newpaper reporter in the early days of his career.  He would stop and talk to anyone anywhere and get them to tell him their stories.  I was so shy as a child that I had difficulty talking to anyone, even people I knew.  If I were a child today, I would likely be diagnosed with social anxiety.  But as an adult, I have conquered the fears that haunted my childhood.  As I said goodbye to the gentlemen and wished them good day, I felt confident in myself, proud of my family heritage, and that I find in some ways that I am following in my father's footsteps.  The stories I hear and the people I meet are the gem I find when I take the road less traveled.

Our return hike went smoothly, as we easily found the markers I had left, retracing our steps with precision.  When Pongo and I reached our car on the other side of Mt. Peak, it had stopped raining.  We had begun our hike at 8:30 and it was now 10:55.  What a glorious morning with my best friend!

A Nosework Easter Egg Hunt

My 16 year old step-daughter, Ashley, always spends Easter with her mom. She has two younger half-siblings and she's a big help in setting up the annual egg hunt at her grandpa's.  This week I found myself feeling a little disappointed about Easter without her.  I hadn't decorated and other than having an Easter dinner with my husband and mother-in-law, we didn't have anything else planned.  And yet I had pulled the plastic Easter eggs and a couple baskets out of the garage. 

I lamented to my friend Ellie, who is our school librarian, at work on Thursday.  She suggested the perfect solution: a nosework egg hunt!  "What a great idea, I'll host!"  I said.  The plans for an Easter-themed evening of nosework quickly came together.  We chose Friday night to avoid conflicts with Easter activities and because it was supposed to be the best weather day according to the forecast. 

Friday evening came on cool and blue.  I brought my nosework kit out onto the back deck and began setting up two different scents: birch and anise.  I prepared eight different finds.  Six of them I placed inside plastic eggs with holes in the end.  It had been a month since I had last practiced nosework with Pongo.  Life has been so busy lately that nosework has fallen by the wayside.  A friend of mine used to say "life interrupts" when he found mundane everyday living got in the way of fullfilling life's dreams.  I find myself often quoting him, as this phenomenon seems to happen often to me. 

The seventh find I planned as a threshhold find. Threshhold finds are located near the starting point, marked by two cones in nosework trials.  Dogs are often so excited that when they are given the command to "search" they forget to detail the area near the starting point. In class, we were told to always practice working the threshhold.  I placed two Q-tips inside a plastic golf-tee shaped container that I pushed into the ground.  The eighth find was a high hide with a Q-tip clipped to the fence.  The pictures here show the steps I used to prepare for the hide.  Tweezers are used to take the scented Q-tips out of the jar without contaminating it with your own scent.  I put two, sometimes three in the metal containers.  Next, I placed the metal containers inside the smaller plastic eggs. 

Here you can see my Easter egg basket.  I needed one larger egg for a round metal tin I loaded with anise Q-tips.  It is larger than the rectangular tins with the sliding-lids.

Ellie arrived first with Lincoln and Daisy (left to right).  Here they waited nicely for their turn to work.  It was a beautiful evening and at 7 pm the light was just beginning to fade in the sky.  We decided to get started as we knew Mary and Crosby were running late.  Pongo went first. He blew past the one on the threshhold (all the dogs had difficulty finding that one).  Pongo and I have done very little searching in our own backyard on grass.  Most of our grass practice has been at a park.  It took him a while to get going.  He found one egg between a stack of wood and a Ford truck tailgate and kept showing it to me over and over again.  I learned in nosework class that I can reward him a second time, but then get him to move on.  He seemed unsure what to do next, but I didn't want to lead him.   After a few minutes, I decided to give him a break and I put him in the house while Ellie worked both Lincoln and Daisy.

My husband and I have a large rectangular yard that's long and skinny.  There were many easy places to hide the eggs with piles of wood, lawn furniture and statues, rosebushes, enormous rhubarb plants, stumps and garden boxes. 


 

A blue egg loaded with birch odor. 

Lincoln alerts to the high hide. 

It was fun to watch Lincoln and Daisy work. Daisy especially shows a lot of exuberance for nosework. I feel so lucky to have friends who enjoy doing nosework with their dogs. I learn from them each time I watch Lincoln, Daisy and Crosby work.  They each have different mannerisms, and alert in different ways.  It helps me to watch Ellie and Mary handle their dogs, as they also teach me how to present an odor their dog has missed, or how to keep their dog working.

When I brought Pongo back out, he was much more focused.  He found all but two of the hides.   It was a wonderful evening!  I felt guilty that so much time had passed since we last practiced, but Pongo enjoyed every moment of it.  There is always forgiveness in a dog's heart. 


Pongo finds an egg near the water fountain.

By the time Crosby and Mary arrived, it was beginning to get dark.  Crosby was eager to get out of his vehicle after a long ride.  After a potty break, he got right to work.  All of the hides were paired with treats since it was the first time the dogs had worked in my yard and because all the dogs had had a break in training.  Crosby delighted us with his antics, going all the way under a stone bench to the other side to follow the odor of an egg hidden in front of it.  He was so excited he picked the egg up in his mouth!   

 

Here, Crosby finds an egg in the seat of a
 pergola my husband built for one of
our wedding anniversaries.

Other ideas for future egg hunts include: not putting odor in all of the eggs (similar to how we have worked with boxes for ORT preparation) (See my August 13, 2013 blog: Getting Ready for the ORT).  Another idea is not to pair all of them with treats.  Some of our eggs had a treat inside, or we placed a treat next to it on the ground.  Of course, dogs are always rewarded with treats from their handler when the find odor.

At nine o'clock with the light gone, we finally stopped our holiday hunt.  The dogs were in their blissful happy place, ready to go home for a dream-filled night.  I could only hope our dogs' dreams were full of following one odor to the next!

Happy Hunting, Canines!

 

Need for Mental Shift of Pet Ownership

A week ago, I was working with one of my sixth graders who is in our Deaf & Hard of Hearing program.  He has a cochlear implant and wears a hearing aid in the opposite ear.  We were using an app called Sentence Ninja where sentence parts are jumbled.  The student has to put the words in the correct order.  It is common for students with hearng loss to struggle with English word order and so I spend a great deal of time teaching sentence structure.  One of the sentences we encountered that day had the word "litter" in it.  My student easily put the words in the correct order, but when he signed the sentence to me, he used the sign "little."  Although the picture that went with the sentence showed trash spilling out of wastebasket, he had not understood the word litter.  It occurred to me that the words "little" and "litter" look exactly the same on the lips and would be indistinguishable to him.  In addition, ls and rs are phonetically very similar. 

After the student's session ended, I went to the internet to print out a set of minimal pair pictures to work with him the next time.  Minimal pairs are words which vary by only one sound and are often used in speech therapy.  I frequently use Google Images to create visuals for my students when we are working on unfamiliar vocabulary.  But photos on the internet can be dangerous.

Innocently, I typed in the word "litter." The first two pictures showed what most would typically call trash - fast food wrappers and cups, paper, etc. in an outdoor environment.  But the third picture made my stomach turn.  It was a photo of a dog on a beach with his head wrapped in pastic and duct tape.  I couldn't get away from that photo fast enough. Under "litter" was a whole subheading of "animals."  I couldn't look at it. My day turned from joy to despair.

The idea that dogs are commodities is all too prevalent in our society.  I hear more and more often of individuals who decide to breed dogs for the lure of money.  Many of these dogs are sold for hundreds of dollars when they are not papered and their lineage is unknown.  Dogs are kept in deplorable conditions for the purpose of breeding for money.  On the otherhand, other dogs are viewed as an accessory similar to a Coach handbag or Jimmy Choo shoes.  When the dog develops undesirable behaviors, it is disposed of (relinquished or euthanized) or traded in for a new one.

After I adopted Pongo, I became very interested in shelter animals. Why do so many people give up their dogs? I wondered.  As I began to do research for my book Rescuing Pongo, I looked for data that would answer my question.  I came across one article in The Journal of Applied Animal Welfare Science titled "Understanding Animal Companion Surplus in the United States: Relinquishment of Nonadoptables to Animal Shelters for Euthanasia."  Published in 2001 by a group of veterinarians who compiled their data via questionnaire at local animal shelters, the very title refers to animals as a commodity in economical terms.  While the largest percentage of people who relinquished their dogs for euthanasia cited "old age" as the reason, other reasons included aggression toward people or animals, disobedience, excessive vocalization, escape, fear toward people, destructiveness inside or outside the home, house soiling and hyperactivity (jumping on people). 

Sadly, most of these behaviors can be changed through education, exercise, and positive behavioral modification with a qualified trainer.  Living in a society of excess, we need to shift our thinking.  Pets are not a commodity that can be tossed out as trash. They are living beings with heart and soul. 

Snowshoeing Near Price Creek

Pongo and I were invited to go snowshoeing with friends last Saturday.  We met at 8:30 in North Bend at the outlet mall, then carpooled to the trailhead.  We bought a Sno-Park Day Pass at the North Bend Chevron.  I also purchased extra water and a lemon Luna bar for my pack as well.  We took I-90 over Snoqualmie Pass to exit 62 (Lake Kachess), then got back on the freeway traveling West in order to take exit 61 to Price Creek.  The parking lot was piled with hills of snow towering ten feet high or more.  A dozen trucks and cars were parked, some with trailers or ramps angeled off the back of the truckbed.  It turned out that Price Creek is popular for snowmobiles as well as snowshoeing. 

It took awhile for me to figure out how to put my snowshoes on.  I bought them as a Christmas present to myself in 2006 but had only used them a couple of times since.  There were five of us in our expedition - six if you count Pongo.  My friend Carola and her daughter, Crystal, Wendy and her husband Steve.  It was immediately clear to me that they were far more experienced at snowshoeing than I.  They wore all-weather gear and hiking packs that I was sure were filled with emergency supplies.  I had forgotten a water-proof jacket (what was I thinking!) and was only wearing hiking pants, a long-sleeved hoodie and a vest.  I had decided against my hiking boots at the last minute and opted for my running shoes instead.  Wendy loaned me an extra pair of gaiters to try and keep my feet and calves dry.  I felt a little embarrassed that I wasn't more prepared.

I tied a red bandana with white snowflakes around Pongo's neck so he wouldn't be mistaken for a bear or some other wild animal.  He immediately bounded ahead of me on the trail, staying with Steve, who started out in front of the group.  Pongo loves to be at the front.  Having  hiked with him now for twelve years, I knew he would circle back, keeping his eye on me, and keeping track of where everyone was in the group.

Though I will never know what breed(s) he is, I am certain there is a herding breed in him somewhere.  Up the packed trail we went. It was a beautiful, cool day but I soon worked up a sweat. The trail started out fairly steep although our directions said the elevation gain was less than 1000 feet.  After a half hour or so, I noticed Pongo pausing to stare into the forest.  I thought maybe he smelled or saw a wild animal.  But soon we could hear the whine of snowmobiles.  I put Pongo back on his leash.  He had heard the snowmobiles first.  As they neared, Pongo began to pull hard and I knew he would slip out of his collar soon.  He was scared of the loud machines.  I wrapped my arms around him to hold his entire body and in doing so, fell into deep snow. At the side of the trail, the snow was soft and several feet deep.  I soon discovered that my poles disappeared almost to the top of the handles in the soft powder.  I struggled to get up after the snowmobiles had passed.  It sure is tricky

We hiked for a couple more hours, then took a break for lunch. Steve left the trail and climbed up a hill to look for a good spot.  Everyone followed him, taking off their packs and sitting in the snow.  Pongo stood on the trail, barking at us, refusing to follow.  "You think he has some herding dog in him?"  She teased.  Yep!  Pongo seemed to be telling us we were supposed to keep to the trail.  I went down and put him on his leash, and only then did he follow me up the hillside.  He sat between Carola and I as we began to unpack our lunch.  Pongo shared a peanut butter sandwhich with me, as is our hiking routine.  He got REALLY excited, though, when Wendy pulled smoked salmon out of her pack. I readily accepted her offer to share, and juggled trying to put small chunks of salmon on the Ritz crackers I had brought and keeping Pongo's quick tongue from beating me to a bite.  Silly Po!  No smoked salmon for you!

Instead of continuing to the ridge which now seemed within reach, we decided to turn back and return to the parking lot.  It was starting to rain and I was quickly getting soaked.  Pongo took off at a trot, seeming to want to get back to the car in a hurry.  I wondered if his feet were cold, or if he was just tired.  Maybe the snow had aggravated his arthritis and his legs were starting to stiffen.

Back at the car, Pongo jumped into the back seat and lay down.  We were both wet but blissfully happy.  This is what it's all about living in the Pacific Northwest!  I love spending the day among trees, being with Pongo, staying on the move, enjoying nature and getting some exercise.  When Pongo and I moved from Washington DC at the end of 2005, this is what I had in mind.  Although we had hiked in our early city days together, I liked the idea of living near big mountains, thinking our lives would be full of endless hiking adventures.  But when we got here, I didn't know anyone who liked to hike.  I have been cautious about hiking alone since I have a horrible sense of direction and don't read maps well! I am so thankful to new friendships with those who share our passion for hiking!  Thank you for allowing Pongo and I to join in your adventures! 

The next day, Pongo and I slept for most of the day.  It felt luxurious to lounge about, napping and watching tv.  It's not often that I allow myself to do nothing for an entire day.  We are ready for another adventure in snowshoeing before the snow disappears for the winter!

      Carola stops for a snack mid-hike.

Happy 13th Birthday, Pongosaurus!

I have always celebrated Pongo's birthday in February.  Not knowing an actual date, the Washington Animal Rescue League estimated he was one year old in February 2002. Beginning in 2003, I have had a birthday party for him every year, sometimes inviting as many as six of his doggie friends, complete with birthday cake and party favors.  His birthday always includes some kind of exercise - a hike or a walk to a park to play ball...  

Mid-Winter Break in my school district always coincides with President's Day.  I had a couple days off from school and decided kind of spur-of-the-moment to celebrate Pongo's birthday on Monday.  I wanted to take him on a new trail, and so I sat down at the computer to quickly research a hike somewhere close off of Highway 410.  There had been a lot of snow in the mountains over the weekend but the roads at home were only wet.  I found what sounded like a nice winter hike - little change in elevation, only five miles long, and not far from Enumclaw.  Perfect! 

I packed a couple peanut butter sandwiches, an orange, an apple, two water bottles and some dry dog biscuits for Pongo.  I put on silk thermals under my hiking pants and several thin layers on top.  Pongo circled, following me everywhere I moved about the house, tapping the back of my leg with his nose as I walked - his regular "let's get going" dance. 

Finally we were in the car, taking the back road to Buckley. I stopped for a latte at a drive-through coffee stand, then was surprised to see traffic backed up, barely moving as I pulled onto 410.  We inched along.  Pongo stood over the gear shift with his front feet poised on the console and his back feet on the rear seat, showing his anticipation by whining and panting.  Could this be holiday traffic to Crystal Mountain?  I wondered.  Was it backed up all the way through Enumclaw to the ski resort?  That seemed crazy! 

As I neared Mud Mountain Road, I could see a trooper stopping cars and talking to each driver.  When I reached him, he told me that the road was closed on the other side of Enumclaw and that he was only letting residents or those who worked in Enumclaw through.  I told him I wanted to take my dog for a hike and asked him if I could take him to Mud Mountain instead.  With his approval, I turned right.  The problem was, I had never been to Mud Mountain and had only heard of it.  I didn't have directions.  Soon I was at a stop sign where I could only go left or right.  I chose left.  I wound around, seeming to get further from what looked like a mountain.  I took another left and before I knew it, we ended up at Mt. Peak!  So much for my directional instincts!!

I was disappointed. We have been hiking Mt. Peak for years, sometimes twice a week in the summers.  I had wanted Pongo to get to experience something new for his birthday.  I didn't feel like doing the steep one mile climb to the summit and I didn't have my hiking poles in the trunk.  I had been planning an easy, flat hike.  Bummer! 

But Pongo was anxious to get out of the car and I was sure he needed to pee.  I decided not to hike the main trail as we normally would.  I have known there were other trails on Mt. Peak but never had the inclination to explore.  Having the day off, I was in no rush.  So I decided to take take a smaller trail to the right of the main trailhead and the Carl Magnussen Trail sign.  I thought I had been told it was wider and more like a service road.  I was surprised then when it started off similarly to the main trail.  It got steep quickly.  But instead of having switchbacks, the trail wandered up in much the same direction.  Pongo bounded off ahead of me, looking back to see if I was coming.  It was slow going for me. 

Instead of widening out, the trail got narrower and steeper.  The ground was wet and I was glad I had worn my hiking boots instead of tennis shoes.  Up we went without running across another hiker.  I began reaching for tree roots to steady myself and help pull myself up in places.  I watched Pongo try to jump up some rocks above me, then turn around and come past me.  I called to him, taking a few more steps forward.  "Com'mon Pongo!" but he refused and kept up with his descent.  He had decided it was too steep - an unprecedented event!  But I couldn't get him to go back up. Finally, I realized he was the smarter of us two.  It was better to turn around now than to fall and injure ourselves.  The way down was treacherous and I did lots of sliding in spite of the rugged soles of my boots. When we reached the car, Pongo lay down on the back seat and licked his paws. Although we had set out with something much different in mind, it had still been a glorious adventure.  That evening, I made him a special dinner. I made a dish called Canine's Curry, improvising for some of the ingredients that I didn't have. Pongo got excited when he saw me pouring something from the stove into his dish.  But waiting for it to cool was tortuous!  Sometimes he can be so impatient!  At least when it comes to food and going outdoors. 

 


After dinner I set Pongo's gifts on the table. He got a bag of beef liver and sweet potato treats, as well as a chew stick.  Instead of a birthday cake this year, I opted for making "Catty-cakes." I remembered making them a few years ago.  It was an easy recipe, I had all of the ingredients at home (no shopping required - always a plus!),  and that he liked them.  Del, Ashley and I sang happy birthday and his birthday celebration began to wind down to a close.  Ashley was rushing off to band practice and Del would be going to bed soon.  I would likely fall asleep watching tv on the couch. It was a low key birthday in comparison to other years.  I baked less treats than last year, aware that controlling Pongo's weight in his advanced years is crucial to his health.  Excess weight aggravates joints and arthritis.  He is slowing down and getting less exercise. 




Pongo waited patiently for Mommy to take the cupcake wrapper off, then devoured a couple Catty-cakes in a row.  It was a good birthday!  I am so thankful that Pongo's health has remained steady and that I have been blessed with another year with my sweet boy.  After a scare with a malignant tumor on Pongo's belly last year, I am grateful for every day I get to share with him. I hope that there are many more hikes and adventures for us to explore and more years to come.  I love you, Pongosaurus!

Pongo's birthday recipes came from Pupsnacks by Stephanie Mehanna.

Happy Valentine's Day - 'Ruff You

It's Valentine's Day! The day where we let those who are important in our lives know we love them.  This tradition now extends to our pets. Just do an internet search on "Valentine's Day for Pets" and you'll see ideas on Pinterest and adorable items for sale on Etsy.  Stop by your local favorite dog boutique and you can buy Valentine's Day themed toys, clothing and treats. Shelters have Valentine's Day themed adoption events and remind us of the love and joy that animals bring into our lives.  Who can resist?     When relationship woes plague you, your dog won't fail to remind you how much you are loved!  Just look into those sweet eyes! Ahhhhh ... (heart melts).  You can even read an article listing the ten reasons why your dog makes the best Valentine's Day date.  Read it, you're guaranteed to smile:  http://www.petfinder.com/dogs/living-with-your-dog/dog-valentines-day-date/.

Tonight, my husband is working an extra shift. We're celebrating tomorrow.  Pongo lies behind my chair as I type.  I reach down to pat him on the head.  My sweet boy. "I ruff you!"

Pongo, Valentine's Day 2003

Washington, DC

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

With love,

From Pongo and Eva