Wednesday, April 3, 1996

Doxy Moxy


Once the rain had stopped, Fips and I went up to the “moun-tin”. We were ambling down the north fire road and reached the mini-mound in the clearing when I was suddenly seized with an Adventurous Idea. Why not strike out off the beaten path? Whaddya say Fipsie? Let’s go this way.

So off we trotted following the mere trace of a path through some sparsely spaced trees and fallen tree trunks on a slope. Fips followed along sprightly, hopping over broken branches, a tad uncertain as to where all of this was leading but enjoying the moist smell of soil, bark and humus.

In time, we came to a fork of sorts, evidencing that some trekkers had continued right and up while others hewed to the left and down. I turned left and within paces the hint of a trail turned into a cascade of rocks, as if some giant had simply let loose the contents of his wheel-barrow. I started down, keeping an eye on Fips as he figured and felt his way, rock-hoping after me as best he could, unmistakably determined.

What was he thinking ? “Snort! I knew this would be a dumb idea” ? I gave him little squeals of encouragement, as I watched him hop n' stop apprising each new situation and calculating the easiest way around or the best angle of jump. But soon the rocks turned to boulders. I turned and saw Fips at shoulder level staring down. “Wait-a-mini! Wait-a-mini, Fips. Hold on.” Once I figured where to put him, I lifted him into my arms, and trying not to loose my own balance, placed him on some smaller rocks the next level down.

Now the rocks got bigger and drops got deeper. There were fewer walk arounds, and I ended up playing human dog-lift. It also began to drizzle.

What was he thinking now? “Big One. Big Dope?”. But he stuck with me, if not out of loyalty, then out of the fact that big dope was also the only hope of getting out of this snortuation.

At long last we slid upon an intersecting trail -- Fips soggy and muddy; me sweating and wet. Fips shook himself and we picked up the pace and headed back for the truck.

The doxy has moxy; but dachshunds are not meant for rock climbing.

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