Well, we made it to the remote icy island named after Col. James Swan (I think he was a colonel, anyway). Here we are at the site of the island's new library, to be completed soon. The original library, which I visited often whenever on the island in the summer, burnt to the ground after being struck by lightening, taking with it a vast collection of historical records. The wonderfully creative Meghan has worked to bring some history back to life with her radio documentaries of island residents. Historians she has been working with are doing their best to preserve the past! Sylvia and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to visit this site and get a few sniffs while there.

 "Well, come on in," she said.

 Meghan and Sylvia ran on the beach together. Sylvia barked and ran and wagged her tail the whole way.

 She was so excited to be running on the beach.

 But wait! We can't leave John behind. She came back to get me and we ran together, uniting with Meghan.

 Sylvia trotted right along in her very large, red coat. She sure wasn't cold in the numbing breeze on our walk near Irish Point.

 Sylvia still enjoys one of her favorite stuffed squeeker-animals, the blue dog.

Sylvia runs on the snowy greenway

Well, Sylvia is back to her old self again, for the most part. We have been through a traumatic experience, but thanks to her strength, courage and joyful spirit, Sylvia and I are back on track. What was expected to be a simple operation to remove a fatty lump from her neck turned into a nightmare. Poor Sylvia looked like she had taken part in a slasher film; her neck was all swollen and bruised when we left the vet's office and that night she sat stunned, unable to sleep. We returned to the vet's office three or four more times and staff members called often to check on Sylvia's status. We were not happy. After applying cold packs, taking medicine and resting easy for over a week, Sylvia slowly returned to her joyous, tail-wagging self. Her perly whites really do shine and she smiles more often now. Here we are on the mighty Kennebec, in a town called Farmingdale. From there, we traveled to the mysterious and well-trodden Greenway. I say "mysterious", because both Sylvia and I pondered whether it truly stretches from Maine to Florida. We are curious, but have decided to wait for warmer weather to explore further. 

Touring the icy coast and state capital

Here we are once again facing a new day, a new walk and more fascinating sniffs on a familiar path. Actually, at this moment Sylvia was a little too distracted to sniff. She was anxious to get to know some passers-by that moved on down the road  ahead of us, a woman and her three (?) dogs.

Sylvia and I eventually moved along, too. We had some exploring to do! We visited the Damariscotta River, where the famous Pemaquid Oyster is harvested (not this time of year, though).

As you can see, we enjoyed a fantastic sunset. It was cold, but beautiful.

 We also had some very important sniffing around to do in the state capital. Here we are down on the mighty Kennebec River.

Sea Voyage

 Sylvia and I recently took a voyage off of the mainland to visit Meghan on the mysterious and wonderful island.

Here Sylvia is, a little nervous at first, but she has grown a little more used to the ferry ride. This time the water was smooth as glass when we pulled into port.

 Once on shore we ran around quite a bit. At one point, Sylvia joined Meghan and I on a hike out to the lighthouse. The road was unplowed after a certain point, but wasn't too deep for Sylvia's little legs. She bounded ahead of us and then would turn excitedly back, her tail wagging and it really looked like she was grinning, too!
Here in the old kitchen of this famous house on the island, Sylvia did her best to help with the cooking. As you can see, she is prepared to pick up any food that might accidentally fall on the floor.

A tribute to Merlin

A poem for Merlin:

Creation

When God had made the earth and sky,
the flowers and the trees,
He then made all the animals
the fish, the birds and bees
And when at last He'd finished
not one was quite the same.
He said I'll walk this world of mine
and give each one a name.
And so He travelled far and wide
and everywhere He went,
a little creature followed Him
until its strength was spent.
When all were named upon the earth
and in the Sky and Sea,
the little creature said "Dear Lord,
there's no name left for me."
Kindly the Father said to him
"I've left you to the end.
I've turned my own name back to front
And called you DOG, my friend".

Author Unknown

All bark, but no bite

We have been getting to know the neighbors. Several golden retrievers bound up from the woods to bark and greet Sylvia as we pass by. Today we had a little fright, though. A large dog from the other end of the road came right up to Sylvia. I thought everything would be okay at first. The female human who demanded her dog friend's attention stood nearby, hands on hips, while the dogs sniffed one another. Then the big dog growled, bared her teeth and attacked Sylvia. Luckily, I stood right in the way of the bigger dog and shielded Sylvia from big, gnashing teeth. Sylvia was not at all bothered. In fact, she stood her ground and barked right back. After a few seconds of this the big dog bounded back to the other side of the road and to her house. 

Sylvia and I chatted about the exchange as we ambled down the hill into the shallow valley by Roger's Pond and up the other side toward home again. We came to the conclusion the other dog was merely protecting her turf, even though she didn't legally have rights to the other side of the road. Sylvia left her mark and will likely return. The next time the exchange might be a little more cordial. Even as she balefully gazes up at me with those colorful saucers, tail wagging away, I am not completely certain. But I think she likes the little flat-faced critter next door, the one with huge eyes, chocolate colored fur, little sticks for legs and a stubby torso.

Soon we will have a chance to make more friends and reunite with others.

 Just me and my shadow here...

 Sylvia and I have been taking many long walks, despite the cold weather. The past two days were a little too cold, though. Sylvia would raise her paw, as if she injured it, and trot along after a few minutes. On these especially cold days we stayed close to home. I tried to convince Sylvia to wear the booties that came with her survival gear, but she told me she wasn't thrilled about them. I kept my promise of better, more scenic and longer walks on warmer days.