Explorations far afield

Sylvia and I have returned to the little hamlet in Whitefield and are busy sniffing around. She is re-affirming certain territories and I am exploring new ones. Today we found some garden fresh carrots and will soon set out on an excursion to the curious Damariscotta.

Thanksgiving weekend, well out to sea

Our voyage to an island off the coast of Maine began with an adventure neither of us expected.

  Here Sylvia looks out, with a mixture of excitement and wariness, toward the water ahead.

We arrived at the ferry terminal in plenty of time to wander and sniff before clambering inside the car and driving onto the ferry.
The wind was strong and until I saw a short string of cars and trucks lined up, thought I might have to rent a room for the night. Lucky for us (cough...cough), the ferry was still running.


The rumble of the ferry, the wind, and the sight of open water before us as we were parked in the very front (foredeck) were enough to keep Sylvia sitting upright, her ears perked and wide eyes scanning the sight before us. We had a front row seat.
Once out in open water, we encountered much larger waves, bigger swells, which is what I expected. The waves washed over the front of the boat and drenched the car. I was reading a newspaper, drinking a cup of coffee and speaking with Sylvia in a calm, soothing voice. She was panting heavily. Then a large wave crashed against the car, spraying water through the cracks in the two open windows. We both got a good soaking. I spilled my coffee. I set aside the newspaper and took these pictures. Then I mopped the windshield with a towel. I patted down Sylvia, dried her off, petted her and reassured her we would be okay. I closed the windows. Then I watched the large swell of another wave and felt the boat dip into its crevice. I gripped the steering wheel, as if to keep the car from skidding off and colliding with the other cars on the boat.

 The wave slammed up over the front of the boat and submerged the car in water. I could hear it washing all around us, the dull drone of the ferry engine, the wind and the water rushing beneath us. I could hear a squeaking noise, as if the rear bumper of my car was rubbing up against the front bumper of the car behind us. The couple in the black SUV next to my car kept their windshield wipers working. I could see a green flag through to the other side of their car whipping in the wind. I unlocked all the doors of the car, removed Sylvia's leash, and considered possible escape scenarios. I gripped the steering wheel and watched the waves. Then I leaned back against my seat and rested my hand on Sylvia. I then poured myself another (shallow) cup (I'm not going to let a little wind keep me from my coffee, dammit!). I could see the boat turn in an angle against the waves and in a short time we were chugging toward the island. In the sunlight of our approach I saw a half-moon glint in my windshield and saw that it was cracked. The impact of the large wave cracked my windshield. When I drove up on dry land (Sylvia looked slightly less perturbed) I went into the ferry terminal office and asked if the ferry service insurance could cover the damage. Someone standing inside said they had never heard of anyone's car windshield breaking from the force of a wave. Later, the captain said the same thing, though I don't think he doubted that it had happened. I also found that the VW plate in the grill was missing.

Sylvia stopped panting heavily and looked significantly better when she got out of the car and ran around. She wore her fall colors for a brisk walk after her adventure on the ferry.                               

                                                                    

 Sylvia met up with a new friend, one she had met on another interesting occasion and joined her for a stroll on a secluded beach. She and the whip-smart and lovely Meghan have become pals.

 

 Sylvia seemed to really love the sticks found washed on shore. She loved chewing on them, chasing after them and playing tug-of-war.

        

 Sylvia watched intensely at preparations for the Thanksgiving feast. She was enthused by delicious tastings of turkey, stuffing and other goodies at the party.
 All who attended the Meghan house for the extravagant meal seemed to enjoy Sylvia's company. They said such words as, "She's such a sweet dog" and smiled down at her often. Sylvia undoubtedly made some good friends on the island and is likely to be invited back for another visit.

 What day would be complete without some disembowelment? Sylvia never tires of her stuffed animals and I never tire of playing tug-of-war with her and watching her come trotting up to me with the defenseless creature squeaking between her clenched teeth.

Here's a photo (courtesy of Meghan's artful eye) showing the sunset on that isolated beach. I hope all who have been following Sylvia and her adventures had a wonderful Thanksgiving. The sun will shine again tomorrow and may the waves of your life carry you safely home.

See you soon...

baking, writing, playing and barking

 The huntress in action

 she catches her prey. The poor, defenseless stuffed creature can't escape now!

 A struggle ensues...

and the winner is...Sylvia!

 My baking buddy. She supervised, trotted in every now and then and barked occasionally.

Here are the pies I was assigned to make.
It was "thick a fog" as some here on the east coast like to say and Sylvia, throughout the day  kept hearing something outside (I'm guessing). Well, she would bark suddenly after long periods of relative silence, giving me this impression; but whenever I looked out the door or through a window, there was nothing to see but the black, bare branches of trees and brush poking through thick, gray fog.
Maybe Sylvia just felt like making some noise. We do talk, though. Well, I do most of the talking, but Sylvia is a great listener! We played, as you can see from the evidence above and briefly entertained a visitor from down the road, Frank Small.
Sylvia barked at first,  but quickly melted at the sound of Frank's friendly voice. And just a minute or so passed before Sylvia scurried over and clamped onto a partially disemboweled stuffed animal to share with her new found friend. Frank has a way with animals, and with people, too.
Sylvia seems utterly pleased to be meeting so many friendly humans. Tomorrow we begin our journey north. More pictures and more stories will sure to follow. Here's looking forward to the next installment of adventures with Sylvia, and until then, have a great Thanksgiving!

scuffling against the cold

 We are both trying on our winter coats. The days are cooler and our morning walks in the sun are brisk at times, especially when the wind picks up.

Sylvia made some new friends the other day. We took a trip to Belfast, where she sniffed around and was offered a doggie bone. She seems to enjoy rides through the country and exploring new places, though misses me when I have to leave her in the car, even for a minute. Someone in the parking lot of the "Chase Daily" restaurant said she barked the whole time I was gone.

Sylvia wagged her tail and trotted around as if nothing had happened when I returned. She hesitated before letting her new acquaintances pet her, but quickly warmed up to them. We will meet her new friends again soon and there will likely be more encouraging words, petting and tail wagging.

Soon Sylvia and I will hunt down a Thanksgiving feast on an island. I don't know if she has ever been on a ferry before, but it will be an interesting experience. I am sure she will be curious about all of the new smells and sights in down east Maine. She is sure to make more friends on the island.

happy camper

Heavy rain slashed down in icy sheets today and neither of us were thrilled about the idea of taking a walk outside. To our delight, two boxes full of goodies arrived and provided some afternoon entertainment. Sylvia comfortably settled into her new sofa and immediately gnawed and chewed down a special doggie bone. Now she will be able to watch as I cook or read or do some work in the small living/dining room area of the camp.

food tour

Today Sylvia and I took a food tour.

 We took a break from our drive through Lincoln County and stopped at the top of Bunker Hill in Jefferson. It is quite a sight with Damariscotta Lake and surrounding hills in the distance.

 Sylvia and I also visited Wiscasset, where there were a number of other dogs running around. -so much to see- I think she enjoys our rides together and exploring new places with many fascinating scents along the way.

The scent of scenery

Below are pictures of Sylvia on our walk this morning and of an excursion in search for a story:

We visited the Boothbay area and stopped for a brief moment to check out the trains. Too bad we couldn't have taken a train ride. I think Sylvia would have enjoyed that. Maybe next spring.

 I thought this tree, growing out alongside another, was interesting. I didn't notice it, probably, because of all the foliage that is no longer there.

 



Our walks take us up and down the (mostly) quiet road here in Whitefield. She sniffs and I think. The sniffing seems essential and of the utmost importance to Sylvia. Certain smells keep her in one place for several seconds, even minutes. The sniffing is kind of a distraction and pulls me out of my other thoughts.
I haven't read up on the subject, but believe her sniffing activity has much, much more to do with things in life other than just "good" and "bad" scents. I wonder if she picks up other things in what she smells, like the temperaments of animals in the tracks they leave or something about the moods of people who threw their Subway sandwich wrappers on the roadside.
Today was a good day for a walk; it was good for gathering scents and for gathering thoughts.

smells, sights, sounds, and creatures tall and small

 Sylvia vigorously wagged her tail when we trespassed on the lawn of this old estate. In the background lies the Sheepscot River.

 We investigated the grounds of the strangely quiet Castle Tucker in Wiscasset. The museum is closed for the season, but that doesn't stop us from sniffing around!

Sylvia rides shotgun. We were just whizzing through "Cowshit Corner" on our way home. It has been a flurry of sights, sounds, smells, and tastes for Sylvia and I. She is intensely interested in many things, most notably porcupines and a pile of animal feces at the end of the field where we have taken our morning hikes. For Sylvia, this dung pile is an absolute delicacy, one I hurry her away from as soon as we get close. I have tried to introduce her to some other tasty treats  (a chunk of chicken, a doggie biscuit shaped like a bone).

Today (Saturday) was a busy day. After meeting and greeting people with loud barks and tail wagging at the recycle center, Sylvia met a big, shaggy sheepdog. I forget the dog's name, but Sylvia will likely not forget this other dog when they next meet. After sniffing, barking, baring teeth and wagging tails, the sheepdog's human, who sells cheese (really good cheese!) said she thinks the two dogs will become pals. We shall see. But I must say the human and the sheepdog are both very friendly.

The porcupine population is prevalent. Sylvia is fascinated by their fuzzy-looking features. I warn her to not get too close, however, and soon enough we are both heading off in another direction.

Today we also went to visit some friends. Sylvia might have tried a bite of apple pie, though I am not sure. She was shy at first, but warmed up to the crowd soon enough. I learned about wreath making and about some of the people who do it while Sylvia made some new friends.

Do you see Sylvie's new bandanna (courtesy of Ann Marie Maguire)? I wear a matching hat when we go on our daily hikes up and down the road, over the fields and through the woods. We will do the same tomorrow, and maybe she will discover where that honking sound she heard this morning comes from.

Silvia arrives in Maine

Well, it was a long haul for the both of us and we made it to Maine alive. The two of us, weary travelers both, slept until 7 a.m. after the 1:30 a.m. arrival here in the woods. On first inspection in the dark, windy night, we heard a call out in the woods. Was it a deer? A coyote? Some other night explorer?
Silvia and I were happy to have made it. The drive out of Massachusetts was a bit complicated at first, then there were the heavy rains.
We passed trucks thundering down the highway in the pitch black night. Thick clouds of wash obscured my view and the crappy windshield wipers did little to alleviate my eye strain. At numerous times during our journey along vast stretches of five lane highway I felt the car glide along on its slick surface and imagined us both careening off into industrial maze blurring past us. Trucks roared past on both sides. The whoosh of air from the cracks of open windows on both sides of the car.
Silvia barked twice during the journey: once when I ran into a convenience store for a bottle of water for us and once at a toll booth. She remained mostly calm for the entire journey, though sat up a good deal of the time. She seemed anxious to know where we were headed. Finally, after much of the journey lay behind us, she apprehensively lay down; her soft eyes gazed up at me as I drove. And when we turned onto the road leading into the woods, her mood changed dramatically.
Silvia wagged her tail as soon as we jumped out of the car. We immediately explored the nearby perimeter and then, exhausted, went to bed.
This morning, she seemed to smile. Her tail wagging, we both strolled out into the sunlit and windy day to take inventory and further explore our environs.
We both look forward to further adventures, new sight, sounds and smells (and tastes!). Stay tuned for the next installment of adventures with Silvia coming soon!