January 20, 2010. Wednesday.
Situation: Early this morning Mway wakes me up with her barking while Moi’s apparently getting ready to take her for her morning walk. I lie in bed listening to the loud yaps, which seem to go on for about five minutes, and then continue on outside. I am impressed that Mway has two totally different ways of responding to the people who take her for a walk, and I am grateful that she does not bark so much when I’m the one taking her out. I work tonight and have to leave around 4, so I take Mway out after Alma comes for her lesson at 3.
State of the Path: As soon as we get out of the house, Mway runs off down the path through the trees next to the summer house and, while I’m gathering up the fetching stick and the walking stick, I see her pee in the lane (the one that my father had put in) then run off toward the development. I think she’s maybe running after a squirrel, as I see one coming out of the hole on the roof of the summer house where the chimney has fallen off. Since she’s already headed on this route (instead of going toward the walled garden and the back acre), I decide that I’ll follow and take the path in this direction today, which is essentially the opposite direction we usually take. I walk down through the trees and into the lane behind the summer house, then head down the path that starts at all the logs that Paul Paulsen never got around to sculpting and then cuts down through the field between a bunch of multiflora shrubs on either side. I look down the lane and see it covered with black walnuts that have fallen there this past fall, and which is what probably attracts the squirrels to this part of our property. Before we managed to make paths at the back end of our property, this used to be the main way of getting down to the creek, but it’s not anymore and the path here is not as well worn as it used to be. Mway has wandered beyond the lane into the weeds at the front end of our land, and I have to call her. She comes running immediately and soon overtakes me as we head down toward the wild strawberry patch. She then veers to the left and scoots up the path that goes to the clearing where we fetch stick, but when she sees I’m heading straight down to the creek, she turns around and follows me toward the ridge surrounding bug land.
State of the Creek: Before we reach the ridge, Mway shoots ahead of me and I follow her down through the low area full of briars, stepping on that ant hill that I’ve mentioned before, and pass through the break in the ridge. As I’m walking along the edge of bugland, Mway dashes across it and heads into the trees along the creek, scaring out two birds – what look like doves to me – that come flying across bug land beating their wings so fast they sound like bees buzzing. I keep to the path, heading into the area of the red willow shrubs and stepping onto the plank of wood that sits in the drainage stream to bug land. Mway ventures off toward the skating pond, but soon turns around and follows me along the creek, quickly shooting way ahead of me. I enjoy walking in this opposite direction along the creek, as the vistas that open up to the creek’s bends and rocky cascades seem more dramatic as you walk from the shrubby area beneath the oaks toward the more open area just before the old deer stand at the corner of our property. I follow Mway back up through the field along the edge of bug land toward the maples and the wigwams. The entire ground here, which is saturated with water, seems to creak and crack as I walk across it.
The Fetch: I meet Mway up at the clearing beyond the sumacs and just behind the garden. With all the energy she showed already, I suspect that she might fetch the stick more times than she has lately. But I throw the stick twice in the direction of the electric pole, and Mway, keeping to her new regimen, fetches the stick, just twice.
