Cold Nose

If my hound dog could spend all his moments, not just with me but in my lap, he’d be incredibly happy. In general, anyway, he’s happy, a little quirky, sometimes unpredictable, and loyal to his core. During our years, traveling on horse trails, of all the dogs that have accompanied my horse, it’s Ranger who always turned back on finding himself too far ahead, to be sure my horse tracked along. During a lunch break, he’d snuggle against my legs as I sat on a log and chewed a sandwich.

Country life and dogs are inseparable. Shortly after I purchased a small property in Central Oregon outside the city limits, a young Labrador Retriever showed up, a stray, attracted to my fenced dogs. I couldn’t hold onto the Lab, it got away, and I’ve always hoped reached home or another safe place. Afterwards, I created a kennel specifically for strays, kept a handy leash and treats, and rescued occasional dogs that showed up to run the fence with my dogs. I found their owners, sent the dogs home, and hoped others would do the same for me if one of my dogs got loose and went exploring.

I figured that my next personal dog would turn up as a stray, and seven years later, Ranger appeared. While leaving my house, coincidentally to visit a veterinarian friend, I saw a distressed puppy, strange to the neighborhood and barking at a neighbor’s dogs who ignored him. I stopped my car, got out, called, and the little dog crawled to me on his belly. He had no collar and I put him in my car. He’d never been in a car, was all over my head while we traveled. My veterinarian friend estimated he was four months old, found he had no microchip, and put him in a holding cage. For the next hour, while she and I talked, that puppy didn’t take his eyes off me. I telephoned a “found ad” to the newspaper and planned to keep him a week to wait for an owner or decide what else to do.

Nobody claimed Ranger. He claimed me and I fell in love. One of the best things about this hound is his “cold nose”, or lack of an intense drive to track and hunt wild creatures. I once had a riding companion whose dog would take off after deer and disappear, for long periods while we waited and worried. Ranger always kept me in his vision whether we were out with the horses or on foot in a forested area.

This hound is a fast runner, with floppy ears catching the wind and flattening against his head, that skinny tail wagging. At home on the ranch, he’s a better mouser than my kitty, Maxwell. Ranger searches for sounds or scents of a mouse and becomes motionless before capturing. Unlike Max who plays with mice until he’s bored and lets most go, Ranger’s mice don’t see the light of another day.

Ranger, a constant clown, my shadow, and now an elder dog almost nine years old, has a couple of not-yet-very serious health issues. The little street-stray from long ago is one of my luckier finds. Long live you, Ranger!

Dear Readers, have a lovely day, and remember your loyal dogs. Diana