You know, one of the tragedies of real life is that there is no background music.  ~Annie Proulx

Kyle at the shooting range with his .22. Kyle’s not a bad shot! 8/25/12

It never fails, my life is an adventure.  Sometimes it brings a smile, or in the case of my dad, it causes a lot of eye rolling.  This past weekend, dad and I were in Cortland, New York hunting.  We left early last Friday (only after we finally remembered to pack everything and had to turn around in Derry, and right before that, Seven and Scooby took off for a jaunt in the woods).  The first day of rifle season was Saturday.

As I’ve mentioned before, the New York hunting rules are slightly different from Pennsylvania’s.  Example, we are allowed to fill our tags with a buck and a doe starting at sunrise on Saturday, the season includes Sundays, and lasts for three weeks.

We arrived Friday mid-afternoon and met Larry, for all intents purposes he was the orchestrator of the hunters.  I was also given the honor of meeting sergeant Mike Bennett.  He’s a wounded warrior from northern New York, who served in the Afghanistan conflict and was a part of our hunting group.  Larry showed us our new hunting spot, and we rode the quads around a bit to get acclimated, seeing five doe on the way.

That night, all the hunters gathered around the campfire on the edge of the woods to finalize the game plans for the next day, and to enjoy idle conversation and socialization.

Dad and I got up early Saturday morning, about 4:30 am, got ready and headed for the woods, riding the quad to our tree stand.  We were on the opposite end of the woods, compared to last year; a really nice spot, with rows of trees, a few trails and a logging road, near a few patches of pines and up the hill from a crab apple section.  In theory, and later on in reality, a great spot!  Actually, I preferred dad hunt in this area, only because getting to it was not such a roller coaster ride and less dangerous for the old man, again compared to his other tree stand.  It was even closer to the truck, pretty ideal. Our Hunting Adventures … New York Our Hunting Adventures … New York Continued

Waking up to about a half inch to an inch of snow was a nice surprise.  Why?  It makes it better to hunt.  The deer pop off of the background, making them effortless to see.  Plus, it’s easier to follow the deer tracks when pushing deer through the woods or tracking the wounded.  Dad said this was the first opening season in years that snow laid on the ground.  So far so good!

My 1st buck ever! It as a nice size deer, with a small 6 point rack. Cortland, NY 11/15/14

I do love being in the woods, like dad.  There is something so tranquil and calm, especially sitting in a tree stand, overlooking the woods, blanketed in snow, before the darkness lets the light in.  It’s really quite lovely watching the sun paint the sky with a red and yellow glow as daylight approaches.  It seems at that moment, the cold is not bothersome, in fact refreshing.  The anticipation of the day’s events hold your mind hostage, yet keeps you at peace.  A feeling that needs to be experienced, for words do it no justice.

Hunting started out like it typically does, nothing, nothing, nothing, until that something.  Dad saw a deer wondering through the trees.  Actually, the conversation, which consisted in a loud whisper because dad is hard of hearing, went something like this.

Dad:  There!  Past the big stump.  Do you see it?
Me:  Where?
Dad:  There Heather!  Do it see it move its head?  To the right of the (some species of tree).
Me:  Where?
Dad:  Heather!  Look straight down past the big stump! (while there are several large stumps with blown over trees)
Me:   O think I see it! (I did see its backside for a brief moment)
Dad:  Do you see it?  It went behind the trees.
Me:  No.
Dad:  Do you see it now?
Me:  No.
Dad:  Do you see it now?
Me:  No.

Repeat that last part for about a half an hour.  I could not see the deer to save my soul.  At first, I thought I saw it briefly, but then it was behind a cluster of trees and out of my vision, or at least that’s what I’m claiming.  It also took me off guard that my dad, who is in his sixties with questionable eyesight, spotted the deer that far away, at least one hundred fifty yards, through obstacles.  Initially, I was looking closer to us, till I realized dad was looking at a large stump way down over the hill among the trees, through the brush.

The rest of the conversation continued with:
Dad:  There, its moving to the right.  Do you see it?
Me: (as I looked toward the left with my scope)
Dad:  Your other right!
Me:  (I chuckled a bit, for I was starting to get stressed out and flustered) O I see it!  (This time I actually did!)

Hastily, I lined up the deer in my scope and shot through the brush… and missed.  To make sure, dad had me get out of the tree stand and check out the scene to make sure it wasn’t wounded.

Naturally, once on the ground, I couldn’t find the location of the action.  While walking around an area, I looked up to see dad waving me in the right direction.  Now, I was able to really chuckle to myself, for I am always directionally challenged.  Eventually, dad must have been frustrated, so he too got down from the tree stand and trekked toward me to look around.  We saw no signs of the deer and most importantly no blood.  Total miss.  A little disappointing, but the day was still young.

The trail leading up to our tree stand in Cortland, NY 11/15/14

By the time we got back to the tree stand, dad was stripping off his neck warmer and hat and breathing heavy.  I had to wait for him to enter the stand first, since he’s so large and awkward, it makes it easier on him, and me, to use all the space to get adjusted before I plant my bottom down.  Dad needed to take a minute to catch his breath at the lander, before heading up.  Being a stinker and in not bad shape, I simply said, “Does someone need more cardio?”  Ya, dad gave me a snarly look, but totally worth it.

The next few hours weren’t very exciting, that is until dad pointed out a few does.  Picking out the largest one, I shot her at a close fifty to seventy-five yards.  We went through the process of getting out of the stand again, inspecting the harvest and tagging it with my name, and getting back in the stand again.  Believe it or not, that was my very first deer.  Yes, I did hunt when I was younger, but I never got anything.  I took a hiatus for many years before returning to my roots.

Believe it or not, in less than an hour later, even before I could get cold again, I saw a buck walking through the trees.  This one I spotted on my own.  I now had deer vision.  At this point, my heart was pounding and I was getting nervous.  Once dad spotted the graceful beast, which didn’t take him long, he coached me a bit.  “Wait for it to get out of the brush, don’t try shooting through the brush.”  He spoke in a whisper.  After watching the buck in my sights for what seemed like an hour, it finally gave me a clear shot, with less than a minute window to react at about one hundred twenty-five yards away.  I did, and the result?  I harvested my very first buck!  It was a nice size deer, no doubt I knew it would yield a lot of good meat.  How many points?  The buck had a small rack in relation to its body, but there were six points!  Dad was really proud of me; for the solid shot, for providing food for the table, for my first buck, for my efforts to keep our hunting tradition alive, you name it dad was happy!  He gave me a big old hug and a smile that lit up the already bright sunny blue sky.  It was a good day!  One I will always remember.

Now that my tags were filled, dad was next.  The rest of the day was uneventful, with the exception of gutting and skinning my deer.  That night everyone met at Larry’s house for some late night snacks, to show off everyone’s harvests and to share stories.  We stayed for a good while before our eyelids became heavy and the anticipation of the next day was overwhelming.

Sunday was much like Saturday, only a bit colder.  Early in the day, dad filled his doe tag, but not his buck.  The guys made a rule to those seasoned hunters, that they were only allowed to shoot eight points or better.  The only exception was me and the kids and those who have never shot a buck before.  We were allowed any number of points.  Did we see any bucks at all?  Nope.

Funny story.  During August or September, dad and I made a day trip to Cortland to bring our extra tree stand and help clean up, getting ready for deer season.  On our way back, I noticed all these birds sitting on the highway signs.  I mean, it seemed like thousands of them!  Every time I pointed it out, dad would drive by and miss this gathering of birds.  Repeating this phenomena at least twice, dad missed both.  By the time we came to a third sign, dad looked up and said, “Boy look at all those birds, looks like they’re going to bend the sign!” with total sarcasm.  I looked up to see about three birds sitting on the metal pole.  “Not funny!”  I told dad and tried to justify my observation.  The entire way home and after, dad teased me about the birds that bent the sign.  Whatever!

The Trooper Hunt Club in Cortland, NY. 1st day of rifle season. I got a buck & doe. Great harvest! 11/15/14

Well, as we sat there, all these geese started flying over head.  Naturally, they were making all kinds of noise.  There must have been a hundred, even though it seemed like a thousand.  The funny part, they flew in small sections, continuously making noise.  It went on for about fifteen minutes.  I couldn’t help myself, I started laughing.  Dad chimed in to say, “I bet they’re going to bend a pole.”  I was cracking up!  It was one of those silly moments, which are rare with my dad, who takes hunting very seriously.

A little later, dad pulled a Kyle.  He got out his trail mix and was trying to open the plastic bag, which was SO noisy.  It sounded like something Kyle would do.  I gave him a look of ‘Are you done yet?’.  That sparked me to say, “Ok, Kyle.”  Dad and I snickered and then started telling Kyle stories to humor ourselves, but mostly because we missed our little man so much.

Where was Kyle?  He wasn’t able to join us on our trip.  He already missed too much school, plus he was sick from the week before, still holding onto a cold.  The trip wasn’t the same without Kyle, but a good regardless.  Everything is more adventurous and fun with Kyle!  Maybe next year.

By Monday, it warmed up a bit, with steady rain ALL day.  It was a cold, bone chilling rain that was not comfortable to sit in.  Being the only ones in the woods, dad and I moved out of our wet spot to another tree stand nearby with a roof.  Well, in my opinion, it was too late since I was already sopping wet.  Dad and I stuck it out till about 2:00 pm or 3:00 pm before calling it a day.  I even hiked through the pine trees to push some deer toward dad with no luck.  We didn’t see any deer and we both knew they were hunkered down not moving, waiting out the rain too.  Eventually, we retreated to the local convenience store for some soup and hot chocolate (dad got coffee).

It took our little space heater in our motel room the rest of the day and all night to dry out our gear.  During our down time, which dad napped a bit, I brought my iPad to get some work done and enjoy the quiet time (with the exception of dad’s snoring).

By Tuesday morning, we decided to hunt a half day and before heading home.  That night the temperatures dropped, forming ice over everything and luckily enough, snow also fell to give some traction to the slick roads.  It was cold!  I mean really, really cold!  The temperatures were in the twenties with major wind, giving the feeling of single digits.  After about two or three hours, we both buckled and went home.  In that time, I walked for about an hour, trying to kick up deer and push them toward dad.  No such luck.  I didn’t even see fresh tracks.  It was time to exit stage right.

I do enjoying hunting, but the best part is spending time with dad in the woods.  God blessed us with a great harvest!  Can’t wait for Pennsylvania’s hunting season to start!  This time I get to hunt with Kyle!

Thank you to Larry, his family and everyone in New York for the hospitality!  I had a great time and I look forward to meeting up with everyone next year.

It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.  ~Mark Twain

Yep those are the porcupine quills, I wish I could have gotten a shot of his lower lip, that’s where most of the quills stuck.

As I was writing about Love of Animals, Even Fictitious Pets, I realized I never addressed the incidence with Scooby and the porcupine.  Usually I have Kyle on Wednesdays, but he was on vacation with my sister, for ‘Aunt Nikki and Kyle’s Week of Fun’ during the second week of July.  Being at a loss for my little man, I went for a run with my friend Holsters in the evening.  Afterwards, I made my way to my parents house to see how the old folks were doing.  Since I was already sweaty and warmed up, I thought I’d treat the dogs to a hike in the middle of the week.  We did our usual route of three miles, however by the time we were heading back nightfall was upon us, not that it bothered me.  As kids, we used to run through these woods at night without flashlights, chasing each other and plotting strategies of attack at Halloween.  My only concern was twisting an ankle, on the over abundance of loose rocks covering the trail.  No problem, I took my time and really paid attention to my steps, while the dogs continued to run around.  They were having a blast!

As we were within the last half a mile from the house, Scooby who was a good fifty feet ahead of me yelped in a painful cry.  What the heck?  I saw him pretty clearly and he kept pawing at his face.  At that moment, I thought that knucklehead found a nest of bees!  He likes to snap at bees, don’t ask me why!  O great, I thought here I am allergic to bees and it’s dark and I’m in the woods.  How am I going to make my way around them?  I actually contemplated turning around and hiking back where I came from, another two miles to the main road and have mom pick me up.  Then, as I approached the area where Scooby was pawing at his face and shaking it violently, I had another thought.  For some reason I was convinced it was a snake!  I have no idea where that came from, but I thought a copper head bit Scooby in the jaw, since I saw some white around his mouth.  Common sense told me that it couldn’t have been a rattle snake because I didn’t hear the warning noise from its tail.  At that moment, my mind was racing, thinking that if it was a snake, I really would never be able to see it in the dark.  Yikes! Run!

As I scooted the dogs down the trail, I noticed Seven kept staring over the hill and was ready to take off for whatever started this situation.  He listened to me, thank goodness, when I called him to join us, but he was still on alert.  As I approached the opening of the woods and my feet hit the pavement, I looked down at Scooby who kept shaking his head,  It was at that moment I noticed he had porcupine quills in his face!  What?  I didn’t even know we had porcupines in the area!  My only thought was, ‘Well I guess I have to get them out’.  While we made our way down through the yard, Scooby took that as an opportunity to roll around in the orchard.  Then I heard a really loud yelp.  He must have rolled onto his face and hit the quills.  For some reason, Scooby didn’t want to go in the house, he wanted to stay in the yard.  That is until I really yell at him.

All three of us stormed through the front door into the kitchen, and I yelled for mom to get tweezers.  She jumped up off the couch, apparently reading the sense of urgency in my voice.  She came around the corner and wanted to know what the heck was going on?  I told her that Scooby had an encounter with a porcupine.  Then she saw the quills stuck in his face.  Mom looked at me and said, “We have porcupines?”  I said, “I guess so.”  Mom was still really confused and said, “Heather I have never seen a porcupine around here, ever!  I’ve never even heard of a neighbor’s dog coming across one! Ever!”  So in the sixty plus years mom has lived in the house, she never encountered a porcupine.  Then I was thinking, am I really looking at porcupine quills?  Neither one of us were experts in porcupines, but we both agreed, that’s what Scooby ran into, literally.  It looked like Scooby stuck his face directly into the rear end of the spiky critter.

As we brought Scooby into the living-room so mom could sit there and hold him while I plucked the quills out, I saw Seven.  He had a few in his face too!  What the heck?  I took care of Seven first, since there were only a few quills and he just wanted to jump around.  Then, I locked him in his cage, to keep him from getting in my way while I evaluated the situation with Scooby.

Just as I got a really good look I was mortified!  His entire bottom lip was COVERED in quills to the point it actually looked like a beard!  I needed to get these things out and fast.  Well, my inexperience with porcupines was showing when I tried to use the tweezers.  They didn’t work at all!  Next I tried using my fingers, and I did manage to get a few out, but they were so smooth it made it difficult to get a grip.  Then, I grabbed a paper towel, which assisted me with extracting a few more quills but didn’t allow for a really good grip on the others.  Once the upper lip was clear and I felt like I was getting somewhere, I moved to the polluted lower lip.  The paper towel method work for a few, but even that wasn’t cutting it anymore.  I was at loss, I didn’t know what to do?

Think!  Yes, pliers!  I went in the garage and pulled out a set of my dad’s pliers, allowing me to evacuate a few more.  As I continued, Scooby yelped.  Instantly, I stopped to take a serious look at his mouth.  With a double take, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me, I saw the real damage on his face.  The quills went the entire way through his lower lip!  O my poor, poor Scooby!  What to do?  Knowing the vet retired for the day, mom called to see if there might be an emergency number to reach someone.  It was a number to a pet hospital in Monroeville.  Monroeville?  That would take us at least an hour to get down there.  I wasn’t going to have Scooby wait in the car for over an hour with these things puncturing his face, and then, who knows how long it would take them to alleviate his discomfort.  No way!

Back to the drawing board.  Let me tell you, approaching a dog in pain with a pair of pliers is a little surreal.  Mom tried to hold him, while I moved in on Scooby’s face with the clamps of pain. He caught on to me and kept turning his head every time I came near.  He would look at me and give me the sense that I had his permission to yank those darn things out, but then at the last second, he would turn his head away.  Come on! I get it he was scared and in pain.  I felt like I had no choice but to be a little more aggressive with the embedded quills.

Scooby was a trooper!  As the process of yanking the foreign objects out, blood began  just dripping from Scooby’s chin.  It was sprayed across my white T-shirt, my arms, on mom and all over the hardwood floor.  At one point mom stopped me and said, “What what if he bites you?”  Remaining focused on my mission, I said, “Well, I’ll deal with it if he does.”  Only twice did Scooby growl at me and snap at the pliers.  He didn’t snap at me, he directed his pain and fear towards the pliers!  What a good dog!  Every now and then, mom would interject, “He doesn’t mean to growl.  He’s just scared and it hurts him.”  I certainly was not holding Scooby’s hostility to heart and I didn’t want those things to stay in his skin any longer.

While all this was going on, Seven was in his cage, crying and wanting out.  No doubt, he thought he was missing out on something, all while Storm hid under the recliner and was trying to play with Scooby’s feet.  She apparently didn’t realize the tense look in the dog’s eyes.  I had to try and keep her away from him, to give Scooby a break.  I’m sure playing with Storm was the last thing on his mind.  Not to mention I didn’t want this upset lab striking out at the kitten.  Yikes, too much to think of at once!

After over an hour of literally blood, sweat and tears, Scooby was done.  He looked happy and like himself again.  The bloody chin seemed to heal up instantly and stopped bleeding.  Using a flashlight to inspect the area, I noticed he had a few quills in his leg.  Those were a breeze to pull out after the ordeal we just went through.  Scooby was sore, but hopefully on the road to recovery.  He didn’t seem to hold a grudge against me either, wagging his tail and wanting attention.

After I left the injured to rest, I had to stop and fuel up the car.  I didn’t even realize the streaks and spattered blood on my T-shirt, arms, legs and hands until I got out.  I looked like I just fed someone to the pigs!  Either that or I worked in a butcher shop.  What was really amusing, was when I went to take a shower and saw I wiped my forehead and face with a bloody hand.  Can you image what a bystander thought as they saw me pumping gas?  I had blood spatter across my chest, and streaks of it on the rest of me including my face!

The next day mom took Scooby to the vet’s just to make sure I handle the situation correctly and to ensure he was healing properly.  The vet was impressed, how I managed to get the quills out, all without Scooby taking a chunk of my arm or seriously hurting the dog.  I can’t take all the credit, Scooby was the brave soul.  Of course, he was also the knucklehead who stuck his face in direct line of fire of a porcupine.  But that’s another topic.

Well, clean bill of heath, or so we thought.  After some time passed Scooby started to develop a lump under his chin.  Mom hauled him back to the dreaded vet, which the dog absolutely despises.  Scooby growls at him every time and won’t let the vet come too close, let alone touch him.  The outcome?  Scooby was to take some medicine to hopefully dissolve this trapped piece of quill.  Initially, the vet had Scooby on an antibiotic to ensure the wounds wouldn’t get infected.  Now he was back to more medications.

Well, after medications were consumed the lump still remained.  Let’s discussing giving this dog his pills.  Scooby isn’t the easiest patient.  Mom had to roll up his pills in lunch meat and bread to get his drugs into him.  However, mom said that shortly after she started this daily routine, Scooby caught on to the extra love.  He seemed to develop a talent for eating the food and spitting out the pills onto the floor.  What a stinker!   Then mom would have to go through the process again until he consumed the medications.  The dog is too smart to take his pills, but not smart enough to stay away from animals with built in weapons.

This past weekend we took Scooby back to the vet’s to have the lump inspected.  The vet said that he thinks it’s actually scare tissue.  He measured the two centimeter bump and told us to watch it, making sure it doesn’t grow.  The vet looked Scooby over and you know what?  He wasn’t in pain, at all.  If that was an abscess, Scooby wouldn’t be able to eat, and certainly not play tug of war with Seven, which he does occasionally.  Can you believe all this from one innocent walk through the woods.  I guess it could have been worse and I’m glad the our Labrador  seems to be healthy and happy.

Animals have these advantages over man: They have no theologians to instruct them, their funerals cost them nothing, and no one starts lawsuits over their wills.  ~Voltaire

Me & Kyle stop to see a small cemetery on the ridge. I was toting a Spider-Man book bag. 11/12/11

First I’d like to say that I am aware humans have dominion over animals.  God created us, as people, to have morals, values, gifts of the Holy Spirit, a conscience, and we are blessed with free will, just to name a few gifts from God.  But I couldn’t help noticing the similarity in young behavior, at least with respect to dogs.

For example, Kyle and I decided to go hiking through the woods, on our usual route this past weekend.  This was the first time we took both dogs, Scooby and Seven.  Scooby always  gets excited over our hikes, but this was Seven’s first adventure.  I think the dogs were a bit overwhelmed.  As I watched the them I couldn’t help noticing Kyle’s behavior as well.  You see, the dogs jumped back and forth on the trail, sniffing anything on their path.  Seven in particular was climbing the side of the banks and jumping off.  Not to mention he was purposely walking through puddles, just as Kyle has done in the past.  Then Seven went out of his way to rustle up the fallen leaves.  He went barreling through them, kicking up all sorts of colors.  Just as I noticed Seven entertaining himself, Kyle did the same thing.  Kicking up the leaves, making them crunch under his feet.  It was almost comical.

Kyle & Seven hiking in the woods. Seven's first hike. 11/12/11

As we proceeded on our hike, Scooby decided to go out of bounds, and I mean way out of bounds.  He was not listening.  It was like telling Kyle to do something he didn’t want to do.  The dog ignored my order and proceeded on his chosen path.  Finally, he reluctantly circled around, taking his good old time in making a big loop before returning to us.  It was like Scooby was saying, “You will wait on me,”  like a little boy I know.

Once we made our way out of the woods, there is a long road with houses sporadically placed along the side.  Making this voyage numerous times, I knew there were outside dogs, a couple horses and goats along the way.  I was kind of nervous with Seven, being it was his first experience on this road (at least to my knowledge, I will never know where he went when he’s run off).  As we approached the one dog chained outside, I kept close tabs on Seven. He almost ran back to me when he heard the other dog barking and growling.  I had a flashback of when Kyle walked past the same dog a few years ago.  Kyle left his freedom and ran back to my side, just like Seven running to the adult for protection.

Kyle, Seven & Scooby in front of a cemetery by the woods. I tried to get a picture of the three kids but, as children do, they wouldn't sit still. 11/12/11

Then, as we moved further up the road, we came across the goats behind a fenced in area.  Goats crack me up when they stand on their houses.  Kyle started to laugh at the goat who looked like he was king of the hill.  Seven approached the goats like a child, looking from afar with curiosity before moving closer to the fence and then jumping around with excitement over the sight of a different creature, or maybe at the sight of the goat on top of his house.

The dogs had an equally great time as Kyle and I did on our 3.15 mile hike.  Seven looked like a shadow of a gazelle leaping on and off the banks and through the trees with his hunter orange collar.  On the other hand, as Kyle pointed out, Scooby was almost completely camouflaged with his blonde hair butted up against the landscape of dead leaves, bare branches, and neutral colored rocks wearing his lime green collar.  Of course, please keep in mind that I was toting a Spider-Man book bag with a Thermos of water, bananas, and apples, around with me, packed courtesy of Kyle.

I know dogs are worlds away from children but I couldn’t help but pointing out fun behavioral similarities.  Even though I was walking with one child and two dogs, it felt like I had three children.  I enjoyed every minute of it!