Back to the Big River

Fips started skip-bouncing when he saw me gathering up coats and leashes. Seeing Fips get excited got Rosco going too. As always, it’s better to let them wait out their excitement in the “truck” rather than exercise it under foot; so I opened the back gate. Rosco trotted out and positioned himself to be lifted into the Jeep. Fips followed but seemed a little confused and nosed over toward the Ford. I gently put my hand on his side and eased him the other way and lifted him up too. Then I finished gathering up my stuff and locked the door.

First stop, the town park. It was bright but not too warm. I let the fuzzy butts peramble at ease. It is a long and tedious mountain drive over to Cazadero just 10 miles short of the coast, so I figured I’d let the doggies shake as much leg as possible now. Rosco headed over to his spot to gnaw the dirt where the Senior Center cooks dump their grease. Fips headed over to the kitchen and waited by the door, until I called him away.

When they had had their fill of sniffing and poking, I lifted them back into the “truck” and we headed over the mountain. As usual, Fips started the trip with his nose poking out the window like some sniff-O-scope and then, as the endless curving back and forth got to be too much, retreated back down and curled up in the seat.

From Calistoga there are two roads to Santa Rosa -- Calistoga Road which heads south to central Santa Rosa and Mark West Road which meets up with highway 101 just north of the city. Whenever we take Mark West, we invariably turn south upon reaching 101; however, today, after reaching the freeway, I continued going west. Aren’t we supposed to turn left here? Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Fips sit up, look out and take stock. It’s been 10 years since we’ve been to Guerneville and I wondered if Fips remembers the road. It seems incredible that he should but I sense that he does.

As we wound our way through the dimly lit redwood forest to Cazadero, I also sensed that this damp, mossy, bark and earth smelling environment was a dachshund’s delight. But it’s too dank for me and, as I don’t know the area at all, I just let them out for a brief sniff around. Instead, on the way back, through Guerneville, I stopped off at an almost as damp “park” of sorts that sloped down to the river

This is new, this is fun and the doggies find plenty to sniff. Rosci leads the way, trotting down a path carpeted in redwood pine needles. Fips treads softly, as his spongy pads detect sharpness. Eventually the two fuzzy butts scramble down to the what’s left of the river and puddle about in the pools of water.

I look for a stick. Finding one, I hold it up for Fips. “Stick, Fipsie, Stick” He looks up, but doesn’t get all skippy and hoppy the way he used to. I toss it several yards into the water, and he wades in after it, drags it back in his teeth and then gnaws it at the shoreline. But there’s no gusto in it. He does it more out of a dutiful remembrance of habits passed.

Ten years ago, in the Spring when the river was flush and strong, Fips had paddled out from a little watery cul-de-sac and almost got swept away by the seemingly placid but unforgiving current.

After some more poking about, I say “Let’s go back to the truck now.” and Fips leads the way scrambling up the embankment. He manages pretty well all things considered, even getting up a little trot or two. His energies definitely correlate with the ambience. Cool and damp is Fipsie’s favorite.

He’s as eager to get back to the “truck” as he was to get out and down to ground. Rosco brings up the rear and probably wouldn’t mind hanging out some more. I lift them back into the Jeep and the two furry pals curl up in their respective spots, Fips entangled into a blanket and Rosco nestled into a pillow and sweat jacket. They both know it’s going to be an hours ride back.

By late afternoon we are home. The doggies are tired and curl up in bed. I’m tired of all the driving too, and lay down for a little snooze alongside Fips, my arm around his head and feeling his warm doggie body next to my side and Rosco curled up by my leg.

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