You don't stop laughing when you die, you die when you stop laughing

Ducks executing their divide and conquer ploy.

BTW: I've loved dogs and I treasure my cats, so there's no bias in this story, it's just cute.

I was out walking in 2010's fantastic fall this week. I'd just been up to see the pictographs on the side of Ha Ling mountain with a buddy. The last time I went there the trail was blocked for maintenance and you couldn't get to them. That was two years ago and I remember it as a steep hike, me puffing up the side, a good exercise with great views of the waterfall and two pristine, spring-fed lakes. This time we got to the lakes and I was still wondering when the steep part would start.
Good to know I am in much better shape these days.
I got pix of an amazing wall-full of icicles, round icicles along a spring fed stream and the hoop-holding Indian pictographs. On my way home I stopped at another lake hoping to get a reflection of the mountains in the water. I flushed a pair of mallards and stalked them as they glided among the lake's golden reeds and still waters. I heard a funny sound behind me and a golden retriever poked his head into the lake.
Off went my ducks and on went a frown: the signage was clear about no dogs allowed around the lake, they had a huge dog area of their own nearby. But dog owners, many of them, don't think rules apply to them. They refuse to use leashs, or use extendable leashes that mean they have no effective control  over their dogs, One bragged the other day that she connected two extendable leashes to 40 feet so her animal could get a good workout while she was obeying the leash law. Sigh.
This owner didn't even pretend, she had her two animals off leash in a restricted area without apology and I was concerned for my ducks.
Silly me.
The retriever jumped in and started paddling straight toward the pair. They glided smoothly away. The dog paddled harder and drew closer. The ducks looked at each other, waited a bit, then split up.
The dog followed the male, then realized there was only one duck. He got confused and turned toward the now-distant female. She allowed the retriver to close the gap, then lifted gracefully from the water and landed  out of reach.
It was all done so smoothly the dog never knew what happened.
The owner did.
I laughed at the ducks' clever ploy as she called in her hapless pet. "Ducks are way smarter," she shrugged as she stepped away from her wet pet shaking off the water and they headed off.
It wasn't a belly laugh quip, but I chuckled all the way around the lake as the ducks returned to their reed dinner. 

Companion Animal Companions

Ezy now, whats we gots in da pockets, eh?

The chip-munks were a riot, and one of the better parts of that hike above Lake Louise was seeing them in the photos, 'cause they're mostly too fast to appreciate in person. It's what animals do to people that really makes me grin.

From going all mushy at a kitten or puppy to putting dogs in baby carriages while owners go on walks, I get giggles from people reacting to what they now call companion animals (surely an upgrade from mere "pets.") 

And owner behavior includes my own. 

Just yesterday, I asked a worker to help me get a glass tabletop down the stairs to my basement apartment. The very nice young man was inside helping me get it settled firmly on the tricky base (from a thrift store, so a few blemishes to work out) when I spotted my indoor cats (well, Cowboy used to be outdoor until his last vet bill for a mangled front claw topped $500) edging toward the open door. By the time I got to them, they were in the backyard - which is a bombsite because the owner is expanding and there are piles of wood, rocks and debris everywhere. The two dogs were barking their heads off in their kennel and when I added my orders to get back indoors, the kitties scrambled.

I got Cowboy back, he's 16 and happy to stay near food and water these days, but middle-aged Miss Kitty vanished as fast as Mr Mistophoeles.

I was stricken. I searched in vain for her black tiger stripes in the rubble. Looked over the neighbor fences. We are a mountain community and yards filled with native plants instead of mown lawns made this a bit insane, but I tried. In desperation, I crammed Cowboy in his harness and took him out as a lure. No dice. As he is suitably slow at 107, I picked him up and walked him around the neighborhood to where I would have run had the dogs panicked me. He enjoyed the outing, but was useless as far as attracting Miss Kitty. I was spotted by neighbors who wondered if I'd gotten a puppy and was carrying it around -- or was just deranged. 

Trying not to cry, I remembered the time Cowboy escaped from a screen window and stayed gone for three days. He finally returned, much the worse for wear, and meowled at the door. She'll come back, I told myself.  But a dark voice replied: The dogs bark all the time, she won't come near the yard. And she lives in cougar country, much bigger and way meaner. I protested: Someone will find her and take her in. My negative side just cackled: And keep her, since she has no collar, 

No collar, I thought, but she has a microchip!

But I hadn't updated her microchip information - yikes. I grabbed Cowboy and took off for home, creating even more fodder for the gossips gandering at my odd behavior. 

I spent an hour finding the websites for the kitties, since they had different microchips. I'd saved the letters with the tag numbers, one so old it didn't then have a website. I navigated the most confusing conglomeration of sites ever and it took forever to find one that had a member login window, but I finally got them both updated. Whew! 

The triumph was shortlived as dark thoughts of cougars and cars (she didn't even know how to cross a street!) and winter coming any day and kind people who would think her a stray and keep her (the best scenario, for her) flooded my mind. 

Tears flew and I blamed once free Cowboy who had lured her outside where she has never been comfortable. He looked remarkably sanguine and innocent and content -- how could he? - when with a hop, Miss Kitty jumped out from behind the bookcase, where I had looked for and not seen her: innocent, no longer afraid and fresh after her three-hour snooze. 

I had entertained the neighbors, given Cowboy a refreshing outing and updated the info on the kitties' microchips. As the companion of a companion animal: pretty normal behavior. 

I hold a grudge against Cowboy: he knew all along she was there, all he had to do was tell me.

Is Miss Kitty laughing at me or think she's still hiding from the big scary dogs?

And as soon as I understand cat speak, I'm going to tell him that.

You never hike alone...

Haiiii-ya! Karate-munks entertaining the tourists, mostly hikers, at Lake Louise:  Plain of Six  Glaciers Teahouse.

One of the many things that make my heart sing is hiking and I got a lot of chances to sing this summer. For one thing, I was trying to get in shape to celebrate my birthday at the top of a rather steep local peak. At least, I call it steep. Some locals run up and down it to work up an appetite for breakfast.

Did I say young locals?

Others climb it with ropes and metal appliances that keep them from falling down its sheer cliffs to their sometimes eternal regret. Also young (mostly).

I just looked up one day and thought I would love to be able to say Been there. Also to see what the world looks like from the top. It's hard to miss as it towers above town, so I got reminded every time I looked up. I managed to inveigle my son and daughter-in-law to go with me, and two very good buddies who stayed with me all the way  to the top.

Since then, I have been hiking a lot,  finding more opportunities and doing trails I would never have considered before. I don't mind sweat, aching joints, cold feet from glacial streams, lungs pumping hard for enough oxygen, sweaty and sunburned skin. I don't necessarily like them, they aren't my favorite part, but they go with the territory.

I've hiked by myself and with groups. Either way, I'm never alone cause there's everything from the clown chip-munks  pictured above and below to butterflies resting on wild orchids to bears too busy eating berries to pay humans any attention.  Or flowers. Or petroglyphs or rocks or pink and blue coronas as the sun peeks over a peak. I'm surrounded by such stuff.

I love looking for stuff. My favorite part is taking photos. I grab shots of animals and trees and rocks and mountain peaks, light, color, patterns -whatever catches my eye. Then I get to go home and have fun looking at what I brought back.

Like these ground squirrels called chipmunks who literally steal stuff from tourist's pockets (I have photos) or look cute to beg for food (and if none is offered, snatching it from open backpacks, off plates, out of purses). 

I don't think there's ever been a hike I didn't like, even the ones that hurt or made me dizzy from altitude sickness or were packed with people like sardines. Every one of them had some fun involved. 

And what's life without laughter?

I's tole yu an tole yu, no stealin less I sez go!

Whoee, Happy April Fish!

Sometimes life just gets exhilarating. I am starting my new blog on April 1st, and the joke is that it's about jokes and humor and having fun. It's neat how things turn out that way. 

My latest adventure is that my landlords are away in Hawaii and I am looking after their dog. Which is a learning experience for a person with two cats. My prior experience with dogs was on a farm where they looked after themselves and except for a cold-nose-on-your-leg reminder when the food dish was empty, were happy to go their own way. 

City dogs need: medicine, food and water, walking, kenneling and bedding down at night.

Arrow and I went out for our first walk on Tuesday. I took the short leash because I hate those extendable ones that don't really control the dog. Turns out he is pretty good on the leash, so we went further than I anticipated (How long do you walk a dog for? He'll go as long as you want). Arrow is a mid- to large-size rescue with long hair that is stripped down his back. I've never seen a dog with stripes, like a zebra or big cat. Looks shepherdish. Doesn't bark and sits on command, I was pleased to find out.

Since the snow from Monday was gone, I tackled a climb I've been meaning to make up a steep hill. It was strange to have a four footed critter attached to my arm, even stranger that he moves faster than I do - especially up that hill. I am just getting my summer hiking legs back, so was huffing and puffing and needing to rest the screaming calves. Arrow just charged up the trail, pausing only at my commands to "Slow down!" He'd give me a few seconds to catch my breath, then head uphill again. "Sit!" I'd bark, but the joke was on me, the hill was too steep for him to sit. 

It wasn't pretty, but we made it up. I was pleased I recovered my breath as fast as I did. For sure I would not have taken it that fast on my own. 

And I have two weeks to get my legs back so I won't have to yell at Arrow. Maybe even pass him, or keep up. 

In just a few days, I have found him a quiet, handy companion. He flushed some deer yesterday that I didn't see in the woods. He didn't bark, just stopped to look and off they went, their white behinds waving like flags in the trees. I thought I was being very alert watching for cougars in the area. Apparently not. 

Good dog.

Another great adventure brought to me by Life.

May we all have many.

SLI