This past week I have been alone with Mum at my chalet in Quebec. As you know, I just spent a full two weeks alone with Dad while Mum was away in St. Lucia, so it’s nice to spend some catch-up time with her.
I love staying at my chalet, since after all, it’s where I grew up. I’m a country dog at heart – a classic example of a small town dog turned international celebrity.
Earlier this week we headed over to the local ski hill to get a good view of the surrounding autumn colors. At the bottom they had a little photo area set up. And you know me, I can’t resist an opportunity to make me look great.
I told Mum that if this was one of those Halloween tricks where the scarecrow comes alive and surprises me, that I would not hesitate to bite it’s face off (just a fair warning in case it’s Dad hiding in there).
It was then to the chairlift to take us up the mountain. Here’s Mum holding me as we go up.
Halfway up the mountain I started to get pretty impatient. The chairlift was moving damn slow and it was cold and windy. I told Mum to either speed the stupid thing up, or I was getting off. She said go ahead, at which point I decided on my own accord that I would tough it out. That’s just how I roll.
But I have to say, it was worth it for the view.
It was much more fun going down.
I enjoy these dog days where I can really take my time to explore and take it all in. No fences, no leashes, no rules – well, except some basic ones. Mum insists I stay in sight, while Dad insists I just stay within earshot. As an intrepid adventurer, I obviously prefer the latter. I was named after Robinson Crusoe for a reason.
It’s times like these that I can’t help but smile : )
Although, it was yesterday that I had the most fun.
On our midday walk through the woods, I caught one of my favorite scents – partridge!
So I went bounding off into the brush, following the scent while chirping excitedly. It was when I heard the ‘whoooosh’ of a partridge taking flight up in front of me that confirmed I was on the trail. I continued onward with the perseverance of a hunting dog’s instinct.
Normally, my yellow jacket makes me stand out like a (toy) school bus, but in the Fall, it blends in well with the leaves.
So after my pursuit, some squabbles, and excited barking, I finally came trotting back to the trail. I was very proud of my prize.
Unfortunately Mum and Uncle Jack (my Mum’s Dad) didn’t have a camera with them – which was very disappointing. I told them that they should consider any
walk expedition to be a possible ‘hunting trip’, wherein my first rule is never, ever forget the camera.
When we got home we took a picture of me with my prize, which were the tail feathers of a partridge.
Now whether I hunted the partridge or it was just the leftover tail feather from a fox kill, we may never know (or I may never tell).
Mum says I just found it and claimed it as my own hunting trophy – which I say is preposterous. My version makes for a much better story.
So while swimming in a pool of my own pride, I thought this tail feather would make for a beautiful headdress. I stuck it atop my head, at which point they all said I looked like Davy Crockett – make that Doxy Crockett ; )
The downside to all this was that Mum insisted I take a deep-cleansing bath directly afterwards. That definitely spoiled my mood..
This is why I like the country so much. I never get bored out here. There’s always something to see, do, or chase.
With a view like this from my chalet, how could I ever leave?
I’ll be heading back to my condo in the city this weekend. But hey – I have something to look forward to the following weekend. I heard my brother Oakley is coming down for a visit! That’s always fun ; )
P.S. Some photo courtesies to Uncle Jack.