Jack's second issue finally goes to "press"!

Jack's a busy dog. So before winter gets here he insisted I finish up his summer story. (Good thing somebody's keeping on top of deadlines!) Now, I've got to finish up the long-promised sled dog adventure...afterall, the CopperDog 150 sled dog race will be here in March and Jack and I are really excited about it!

Adventures in the U.P. Issue 2: Jack-o’-lantern Hits the Road

In the summer time Jack traipses through the countryside on one of his favorite trails. Join him as he sniffs his way past a turtle pond, a beaver meadow...all the way to a waterfall. Children and grownups will all enjoy the beauty of an Upper Peninsula summer day, hound-dog style.

Jack and the Coyote

Today Jack and I walked all the way to Queen Ann Falls--about a 2 mile hike from door to falls. The weather was beautiful: sunny with a slight breeze and pushing 70 degrees. Everything is just starting to really bloom this far north so apple blossoms and cherry blossoms and not-yet-open lilacs are plentiful. The perfect day for a really long walk. Perfect, that is, until we saw the coyote.

I'm the sort of person who hates suspense so I'll tell you right up front that everyone is fine: Jack, me, the coyote, Queen Ann. I'll also say that honestly I'm not keen to be a stones-throw from a coyote while on foot with a goofball dog two miles from my house ever, ever again. I'm thinking Jack might have to settle for fetching sticks in the back yard for a while.

So, here's what happened...

Jack and I headed out for our favorite trail around 11:30 this morning. On our way we passed a neighbor fishing on the banks of the turtle pond. She'd driven there on her 4-wheeler (and I'll admit I had a weak moment when I felt morally superior for having walked there instead of driven there) but we had a nice chat about the big snapping turtle that lives in the pond, what few, small fish there were, the weather. Jack got a chance for a drink and then off he and I went. Another mile or so up the hill to look at the falls.

On our way we were passed by two rugged individuals on yet more 4-wheelers (and yes, I went from feeling morally superior, to mildly annoyed by the noise and the dust). Jack and I were not to be deterred. We were on an adventure, so on we went. By the time we reached the top the men who'd passed us had pulled off the trail to have a beer. We had a nice chat about the weather, the falls, and the spot with the best view. Jack and I proceeded down the narrowing trail to a good perch just above the river.


I've been there before and thought the greatest danger was the steepness of the trail and how well I can control Jack on a walk. (The headlines I envisioned were "Woman Falls to Death at Queen Ann Falls" or "Dog Walk Turns Tragic.") The idea of packs of coyotes did not enter my mind.

And alright, it was just one scraggly coyote trotting along the rocks at the river's edge not "packs of coyotes!" But Jack and I didn’t stick around to find out where the rest of the pack might be. The coyote was a lean fellow, moving quickly, his nose to the ground. I suppose he was on the scent (not of us thankfully). I was impressed by how quickly Jack went back up that steep hill without so much as a growl. Apparently he knows when to beat a retreat. And I have to admit I was relieved to see the fellows with the beer and the 4-wheelers were still there, just in case I needed to hitch a ride.

Jack at the Big Lake

Finally, the end of May and it is just warm enough for me to leave the woods and walk along the shore of Lake Superior again. For Jack the sand and waves were a novelty and the drift wood was too large for his usual grab-and-run-with-the-stick game, but the sniffing was glorious. He barely got his nose up off the sand.

For this walk we went by car along 5-Mile-Point Road to the beach at Eagle River. Jack and I walked this beach back in January when there was so much snow and ice you couldn't see where the road ended, the beach began and the lake met the beach (see the bottom photo taken in January of the same beach). Unnerving if you don't want to find yourself on ice that might give way under foot (at this point any long-time residents of the Keweenaw feel free to laugh at my timidity, but really, frozen waves are a daunting sight!).

I don't know if it was the temperature of the water or the movement of the waves, but there was no swimming for Jack today. As things warm up maybe he will take to chasing the waves and swimming in the big lake instead of scaring the turtles in our little pond near home.

Snow In May

Today I spotted my first hummingbird at the feeder...and it is snowing. Spring in the U.P. (Upper Peninsula of Michigan). Here it is May and while the ground is clear (except for a few stubborn icebergs in the shadier spots) there are snowflakes in the air. So I'm going to take a moment to look back and remember what REAL snow was like this past winter. Hopefully, I can regain my weather perspective and find the courage to put on my gloves and jacket and go walk the poor dog.

Ah yes, I remember, over 65 inches by mid-December. At the top left you can see one of my neighbors scooping the snow in his front yard. Our snow is usually dry and light so instead of the strenuous shoveling I remember from the East Coast most people use this clever snowplow-type of devise to push the snow away. This photo was taken in December. If you look closely you can see that the 4-foot fence in the background is almost covered. (Alright, I am beginning to feel a little better. Afterall, the crocus are blooming now.)

And at the top right is a photo of our snow-covered hedge with Jack perched on top. The hedge is roughly 6-feet-tall and by the time this photo was taken in January it was completely covered with snow. Once the snow becomes compacted enough Jack just climbs right up on top and has a birds-eye view of the neighborhood. (We knew winter was coming to a close when he began falling through the hedge.)

Yes, I am definitely feeling better. As I write this the snow flurry has stopped and I can see the finches, sparrows, grosbeaks, and hummingbirds who now perch on that same now snowless hedge. Jack might get his walk afterall.

When It's So Cold Your Paws Freeze

My family and I were not dog owners. We had one quiet house cat before we adopted Jack-o-lantern (Jack for short) from our wonderful local Humane Society. We also had always lived in urban or close-in suburban areas where our actual relationship to nature was primitive at best: A small patio or deck, an occasional flower box or bird feeder, now and then an invasion by ants or moths. Nothing too challenging.

Now we are adjusting to life-with-dog in a climate where for several months of the year the poor thing's paws can actually freeze to the front walk. Jack loves the snow and one morning I forgot and left him on his chain for a few minutes longer than usual. When I opened the front door he was looking at me, puzzled. It took me a minute to realize he was not running up to knock me over because he was having trouble lifting his paws off the ground. He was fine in a minute, but it doesn't seem to have taught him a thing about ice and snow and paws. I would buy him boots, but after seeing how many of my shoes and mittens he has torn through in one season, I doubt it would do any good.