What looks like a lynx (or large bobcat) and a wolf about to fight over an animal kill

Taken near our niece, Sasha's, home, north of Iron Mountain.

February 3, 2021 - Thursday morning

-9 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Its nippy out there this morning. There'll be no one suffering from mosquito bites on Pentoga Road today.

How about that opening picture? Sasha walks near where the picture was taken every day and I heard rumors that her mom, sister-in-law Jeanne, recommended she change her route. 

In reality, having lived among one of the largest wolf and lynx populations in the world, attacks on people are very rare, almost nonexistent, even in Alaska.

That being said, years ago, I had a young lady who was a student in one of my graduate classes. She was jogging outside her remote village in SW Alaska where she taught and became Alaska's first wolf attack fatality in years.

My personal experience with wolves? Mostly, I only saw the backside of a pack as they sprinted away. 

Interaction with humans is rare.

Let's see, it's time for a Baby Cheeks report.

She's doing well and we're hoping she'll be able to come home sooner rather than later. Only a slight problem. Cheeks tends to forget to breathe while eating. That could be somewhat problematic as I hear she LOVES to chow down.

Naw, you think?

My body wasn't feeling the best Tuesday morning, so I skipped my usual early morning walk in favor of cleaning the drive from what snow had fallen while we were in Madison.

After a quick breakfast, we made our way to Iron Mountain to pick up Sadie the dog from Mel's mother. We'd agreed to care for Sadie long ago while Mel and Macrea were in Green Bay. Unfortunately, Cheeks entry into the world and our sojourn to Madison occurred at the same time, so the pup has been like a pinball, bouncing from one place to the other.

Sadie's been ... ahem, active for the past couple of days. She almost pulled Joyce, Mel's mother, off her feet when we pulled into their drive. The dog also ran away on Sunday, disappearing for over four hours until someone found her and brought her back.

A year and a half old and no stranger to Pentoga Road, the shaved goldendoodle has always been good as gold when visiting our home. The antics she's known for, jumping on the furniture, counter surfing, getting into the garbage, sleeping with humans, and chewing random objects, suddenly come to a halt. Well, that, or she only does them once and lives to tell about it. 

Ain't no dog gonna train Pawpaw.

Ah, that Sadie's a smart one and has specialized in training most humans in her life.

We ran and played "mean" once we arrived home. Not used to running unfettered through acres of woods, Sadie made a beeline around the barn and yard at neck breaking speed. After, we played her favorite game, "mean."

She growls and snarls and snaps her jaws, baring her teeth, as I raise my arms, stamp my feet, and make monster noises. After some dancing around, she takes off and runs around the property again before arriving back where the entire process is repeated.

She's a mean one, alright, that Sadie.

I needed to go for my walk. A leash was put on my four legged companion and off we went to Pentoga Village.

At least a mile had passed before she realized that this human walked a dog, not the other way around. We worked on puppy/human etiquette along the way and relearned some simple commands that I taught her a year ago. 

She's a quick study and before long, there was slack in the very short leash as she happily trotted along my right side.

I was proud of Sadie when Sargie walked up the road to greet us. There was no jumping, no acting like the idiot mutt she knows how to be. In less than an hour, little Sadie had become a lady. There's hope.

The poor poor puppy was plumb tuckered out last night. She slept nonstop from late afternoon and all through the evening. Kenneled downstairs last night, we didn't hear a whimper from her. After a quick potty dash outside this morning, she's happily sound asleep on her bed near the wood stove this early morning.

After almost a half century of being involved in education in some manner or the other, I've found that pups and children have much in common. Both come into the world as blank slates, but quickly learn the art of training adults. Unfortunately, most are pretty good at it. All require massive amounts of attention and love. Mix those with a healthy dose of expectations and the end product is usually a good one.

Sadie's no exception.

I'm happy to report my eye and body are back to their old fighting selves. Thank you for your emails/texts/phone calls and words of love and support. 

You know, I thought long and hard yesterday about those whose lives depend on daily medications. My son, Matt, is a type one diabetic and until recently receiving a permanent insulin pump, had to inject himself several times a day. That doesn't include endless finger pricks.

... and I'm whining about getting an injection once a month? The way I belly ached, it's almost embarrassing. When put in perspective, I feel foolish for even mentioning it.  

Matt has never complained or whined. After learning of his condition, he accepted responsibility, manned up, and made the deliberate decision to manage his disease. It wouldn't manage him.

Thanks, Son, for setting an example. Like your brothers, you're my hero, but then, I'd expect no less.

It's daylight and I'm heading out the door for my morning stroll. Sadie will be left behind as she has delicate tootsies and the last thing I need is to get her shaved body frostbit. Poor timing, shaving a dog going into the coldest part of the year.

Later today will see the usual, a drive, shop time, and oh yes, Sadie will receive lots of love and attention, coupled with a whole bunch of ongoing expectations.

Ain't no dog gonna train Pawpaw. 

(DON'T THINK I'm calling this pooch a granddog... or grandchild, or however people try to humanize an animal. That being said, I love her all the same.)

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

I just looked out the window and what to my wondering eyes did appear? 

A *(#$&^%+ deer eating our shrubs.

Nope, she's not my grand deer either!