January 3, 2017 - Wednesday
8 degrees/snow showers/breezy
Pentoga Road

It's going to be another cold day in the UP. This winter has all the makings of the one several years ago when temperatures sank well below zero and stayed there for months.

It's not the cold that makes one so miserable. It's the wind. Colder temperatures are forecast for today with winds to blow up to twenty miles per hour. 

Speaking of cold weather, it kept me inside most of the day on Tuesday. Thoroughly chilled when I arrived home from my morning walk, I ran a few errands in town then stayed in the house for the remainder of the day.

I finished working on my ice fishing equipment.

Charging the battery that powers the sonar

My newest activity in this cold weather is perusing the internet looking at pups and dogs. I THINK I'd like to get another companion, a four-legged buddy to keep me company during these long days while Sargie's off to work. 

I miss Brutus. He was not only another set of eyes, he was my constant companion, my confidant, my best four-legged friend in the world. 

Simply put, I'm lonely.

I don't know if I want a big, old, dumb, dog or a little bitty, non yapping, non shedding pup. (In my case, the words pup and dog are interchangeable and have nothing to do with age.) 

At first, I was going to get a pound dog and I still may. Problem is, many animal shelters get as much for a stray as what a breeder charges. I remember in the old days when one would go to the pound, select a dog, pay $5, and the pound people would try to talk you into taking home an extra pup or two. 

Now they do interviews to see if the dog is the right fit, ask for references, and charge hundreds of dollars. Some even require a home visit. Ain't no pound person going to come and inspect my home to see if it's good enough for a dog.

I'm interested in adopting a canine, not a human baby.

Since I had Casey, a Jack Russell Terrier, while living in the arctic, I've not paid very much attention to little dogs until Aunt Joanne came to visit last summer. Her four-legged pup that weighs just a few pounds doesn't bark, doesn't eat much, doesn't shed, is with her continually, and asks for nothing more than love and companionship. I was pretty impressed.

Though Casey didn't bark very much and was very cool, I've always thought of little dogs as noisy sound machines that try to bite everyone in sight. In fact, I've recommended to two or three people who had them that their's be used as fish bait.

I laughed. They didn't.

Casey's problem was he couldn't leave porcupines alone and they eventually led to his demise. There are more porcupines than trees in the UP. Owning another Jack Russell is out of the question. 

Then on Christmas Day, while over to my nephew, Taylor's, house, I played with a miniature Yorkie. The only noise the Yorkie made was when he sang along with a country music song or two. The pup crooned with the worst of them, but he didn't bark, didn't shed, and got along with everyone, even with the little ones who were chasing him around so they could pick him up. The dog's owner is a manly-man, nothing fifi about him, but oh how he loves that little dog. 

I've been looking at the popular Teddy Bear pups that seem to be the rage. They're half poodle and half something else. (Yeah, I know, not very manly sounding.) Supposedly, they don't bark, don't shed, don't smell, and are bomb proof, both socially and health wise. Problem is, a reputable breeder gets anywhere from $500 to $1,200 for an eight week old pup. That's a lot of money for something that weighs just a pound or two and you can't eat. 

I remember in the old days, if one lived out in the country, stray dogs were common. There were few shelters and if a city person wanted to get rid of a dog, he'd drop him off at a nearby farm. At one point, years ago, a new dog seemed to appear on our doorstep almost daily. Most, we'd chase off. A couple, we adopted, and they became a part of our family.

That seldom happens anymore, at least around here. I've been waiting for a stray since early last summer, but thankfully, people don't drop dogs off in the country anymore. Thus, I'm searching.

We'll see. I'm not even 100% certain I want another dog. Darn things... you love one to death for a few years then the time comes when he's gone, leaving a dark void that can only be filled with wonderful memories. 

I think I'm about ready to fill that void with a new four-legged buddy that eats, breathes, loves, and who knows, maybe it'll even croon to country music.

I wanted to spend time Tuesday afternoon in the shop and/or get the ice shack set on the lake, but honestly, it was entirely too comfortable sitting by the wood stove.

Mom keeps reminding me that I'm retired, that I don't have to keep a schedule and whatever doesn't get done today can keep until tomorrow... or the day after... or the day after that.

I talked with my good friend, Bob Love, in Sitka yesterday afternoon. It was good to catch up on the news. Honestly, I'm half tempted to move back to the island in the North Pacific Ocean, at least for the winter months. While we are shivering in cold winds and temperatures ranging in the single digits, Bob said it is in the mid forties and mild in Alaska's Southeast. 

I doubt we'll move. Sargie's commute to the Vision Center is already too long. Adding a few thousand miles each way probably wouldn't be practical.

Sargie closes tonight. If the wind isn't howling, I'd like to get the ice shack set out and maybe fish for a couple of hours. (Scratch that. The windows just rattled from a gust of wind. Maybe tomorrow?)

I think I'll head out to the shop and be creative, maybe spend some time looking at pups on the internet, possibly stretch out in the recliner and think not-so-deep thoughts with my eyes closed.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Bare places where the deer have kicked the snow away to get to the grass underneath