donbosco
Distinguished Member
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Fifty-Three months ago during the third week of March, 2020, we went online with classes across the nation. For me and millions this was the pandemic signal and heralded hardships, anxiety, and drastic change. 103 million+ have died worldwide and 1.2 million in the USA alone over that time span. These numbers will take years to understand from the great collective to the very personal and individual.
For many of our pets these 53 months have been life changing as well. Prince and Maxie, our hound dog and terrier duo, have spent almost every hour of that time with me. Mittens, our black and white polydactyl feline went to live with Granny and PawPaw McGinness and is happier there by all accounts, no longer sharing the limelight with two rambunctious canines.
Our pups have aliases—Freckles and Tippy, ZigZag and Blindspot, Dammit and Worm, Big Guy and Circus Dog, or simply, The Boys. When, back in May of 2021, we sold the Hamburg Mountain house and moved to temporary lodgings out by the Blue Ridge Parkway on Ox Creek, the dog-walking commenced. It has been 3 to 5 miles a day since and carving out the time has been a challenge at times. The Boys had never been on a leash much before and there’s been some learning for them as well as Leah and I. We’ve been fortunate beyond our imagining that in NYC we have Tess, who helps walk, train, and love The Boys. She’s the best (@dog_trainer_tess).
Maxie, the little one, is downright unruly. He barks at everything, announcing himself early and often. Prince, 75 pounds to Maxie’s 15, is thankfully much calmer and quieter, his bark, more of a roar, is something he reserves for special moments.
In Weaverville especially, they were guardians, keeping the yard clear of squirrels, bears, and the much hated Turkeys of Buncombe. In New York City their guard duties are reduced though the window views of the Henry Hudson Viaduct and the apartment walkway, where other city dogs dare to pass, are surveilled faithfully by Maxie just the same. The NYC squirrels are fat and sassy but with summer it is the rat population that attracts the most attention on our walks. Grant’s Tomb and Sakura Park have their own rodent ecosystems and we know them well now.
For me, the walking is like a video battle game as obstacles and perils pop up and maneuver unpredictably, thoughtlessly, even aimlessly, in our direction. All my life I’ve marveled at the unthinking manner in which some people drive their cars and trucks — now I know with no question of a doubt — that the same carelessness and oblivion is shared by many while walking their dogs. To some in our little ‘stroll universe’ I suppose me and my dogs have represented some intense moments — as Maxie flips out morphing into yapping terrier format, and from time to time when Prince, who hates it when his Napoleonic brother does that, literally corrects the ‘little’ guy, showing his own muscle and that roar I mentioned earlier. I’ve seen the horror on faces as my mountain raised up muts (nuts?) go into their act on the #WestHarlem Riverside Park stage for all who dare to look to see.
They’ve had their own Time of Great Change over the past months to be sure. Five legit abodes, well over 5,560 miles walked in all sorts of new places, and more “people time” than would have been imaginable in The Before. Needless to say, we’ve bonded a bit. And with that I ask, did you know that North Carolina has a State Dog?
#OTD (August 12) in 1989 the Plott Hound became our State Dog. The Plott family brought the foundation stock to the Americas in the 1750s and by the 1800s they were among the desired hunting breeds for being “bold and energetic hunting dogs, gentle with people and loyal to their owners.” #HaywoodCounty. Their brindle coat shimmers distinctly. Plott Hound Native to Haywood County
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