Monday, February 8, 2010

All Quiet on the (Eastern) Front

By the time I got home after work to walk the dogs it was too dark for me to take the camera so I will have to describe the walk we had. Right now it's sort of snowing and raining at the same time with a good inch or two of fresh snow on the ground to cover everything in a clean blanket of white.

I forgot the dog's collars at my parent's place on Saturday so I had to use their emergency spare collars for the walk. This meant that there were no jingling tags to fill the air and what did fill the air was a blessed gift. All I could hear for the most part was the sound of my own clothes rubbing together and the swish of a dog as it ran past. Footsteps were muffled by the light coating of snow and sounds were absorbed into the damp, insulating forest.

The paths and road stretched paper-white before us, untarnished and pristine. The stark trunks of the trees, deciduous and coniferous alike, stood out in sharp contrast to the white envelopes of snow along their branches and trunks. The silence was occasionally broken by the tat-tat-tat of sleet against the trunks, as the wind threw the flakes with varying degrees of force into the woods. A crack and a crinkle startled us for a moment until we realized that as the tops of the trees bowed to a gust of wind the build up of ice snapped under the flexion and fell to the ground. Archer was quick to pick up the long strands of icicles to play with and crunch on.

As the sun sank and the woods grew dark, the forest pressed closer and sounds seem to become even less sharp. The dusky brush beyond the path became less inviting and the dogs felt compelled to stick to the well known trail. As we broke from the woods into a clearing and turned onto the final leg of our journey the dogs burst into a gallop and played in the deep soft snow for a few minutes, catching snowballs and playing tag.

As I trudged inward using my outward bound footsteps, the dogs kept a vigil in front of me, Raimi leading by a head, with Archer and Leeloo flanking him. I know Raimi and I both spotted it at the same time but I was quicker to react because I knew what it was and he did not.

A very large deer had just stepped out to cross the path about 100 yards away from us on a shallow bed in the trail. In the sinking light its outline was crisp and sharp against the clear white snow of the path it stood on. It stopped to look at us and as it did I and Raimi stopped also. Raimi was too far ahead for me to grab his collar and Leeloo and Archer had not seen it.

"Raimi! No! No! No!" I yelled in short, staccato barks to Raimi as he started with cautious steps toward the deer. He was unsure what it was and his interest, at that point, was more curiosity than active pursuit. He hesitated and I took hold of the only chance I knew I'd get.

"Come! Come! Come! Here! Here! Here!" I cried as I turned and ran the other way. Leeloo and Archer, thinking this was a fabulous game, raced after me. I took about 10 steps and glanced back to see if Raimi had followed. He glanced at me, then ahead at the deer, and back at me again 'COME! Raimi! HERE! Good Boy!" and he raced toward me with gleeful abandon, bounced up a couple times and then stopped to watch the deer trot off the path into the woods. I grabbed hold of his collar just as he took a leap to bolt after it.

He pulled like a freight train up the path and to be safe I took hold of Leeloo as well. I knew Archer would stick close to the other two and it wasn't until after we'd passed the point where the deer had crossed the path that Raimi's radar really started blipping. The wind was blowing at our backs and the smell of the deer had drifted about 10 feet down the path from where it had crossed. As soon as we hit that point all the dog's noses were a-twitch and I held onto them until we got to the truck which was a bare 50 yards away.

If the wind had not been in our favor Raimi and Leeloo would have scented the deer long before we saw it and likely would have followed their noses right to it. Usually, with the collar tags jingling, forest inhabitants have ample warning that we are coming. I have never before met deer with such a streak of curiosity. This deer, and the one I saw last summer, both stopped to watch the dogs with great interest, seeming to be completely unaware of possible danger. Perhaps it's the same deer, or perhaps the deer who live in those woods enjoy a particular sense of safety since they, within the town limits, will never be hunted. No advance notice to the deer was sent of us moving into the area but I fear that before long they will come to know that stopping to stare at Ridgebacks is not in their best interest.

No comments: