Friday, January 9, 2009


click the pictures to enlarge I caught a movement on the water out of the corner of my eye and swung the camera up fast and depressed the shutter at the same time. A second longer would mean lost chance. Click on the picture and see what you can see. The heads of three dear just behind the limbs in the water. Almost obscured. Solotude I got up this morning and rushed off to work only to find out that today is Friday and not Thursday. Whoops! I'm off on Friday. So back home to load up the canoe and blast off to Indian Boundary Lake. I really like Indian Boundry Lake. I'm a bit late to catch the otters out on the water fishing. They seem to be most active at sun up until about 11:00 AM and again at approximately 3:00 PM until dusk. They are one of the most interesting creatures I have seen in the wild. But today I discovered a new, strange creature. I have never seen one before. I call it a Homo Sapian Water Weasel. Yep; I paddled around a turn and there he was. I have heard of them but they have been elusive to me. But now I am content to capture one of these rare anomolies on film, so to speak. About six feet tall it was, of male gender, strutting tall and proud from the shore line out into the 40 degree water. The entire process of entering the water was graceful and magnificent. I was amazed to see him dissappear beneath the surface and suddenly emerge twenty feet from his entrance spot. I can't imagine why a logical human being of sound mind would commit such an act. I half expected him to surface holding a fish in his mouth as I've often seen the otters do. I watched until he walked back onto dry land and using a towel, dried himself off. I find strange things out here in the wilderness. I lost a family member yesterday. I call my dog friends family members. No; nothing bad. It's all good. Turnip, my little foster dog friend, became adopted. Turnip has been with me for months now and was an amiable companion to all the members of the pack family. He was one little dog that could get along with any other dog from the moment he met them. He was a sweet little guy whom I came to adore. Turnip's antics in the evening while playing turned many cold bleak nights into joy and laughter. He would sleep beside me at night enjoying the soft, warm blanket that I would throw on top of the sheets and over the heating blanket on my bed. I really enjoyed listening to him breath as I waited for sleep to overcome me. By morning he was pressed tight against me. He was, and still is, just a great little guy. He was the little dog no one wanted. My cell phone rang while I was at work, and the person who watches my guys during the day said that Turnip was adopted. I was instantly saddened but was happy at the same time. I had until Monday to enjoy him. I would take him in the truck to the woods and lake where we could spend some last moments together. Then later in the day another call from the same person. I was told "they came for Turnip." "They took him." "He won't be home when you get there, so don't look for him." I almost cried. The folks who would be Turnip's home forever decided to pick him up immediately. I drove home last night from work and there were only five of my family in the yard to greet me. The little dog named Turnip was not there anymore. Later that night I worked on my emails at the computer and glanced at the floor where Turnip usually lay on his pillow. The pillow had no little dog lying upon it. As I crawled under the covers I immediately noticed the absence of Turnip's little body on the blanket against me. I called to Almondene to "come!" She moved further toward me on the bed and lay where Turnip used to sleep. Turnip, Turnip. My little friend. Perhaps now you can be at peace and languish in the care of loving humans forever. I miss you, dear one. I am sorry I didn't get to hold you and say goodby to you. I'm so sorry I couldn't look into your eyes one more time. Farewell sweet little one. You've truly gone home now. Finally.