The holiday weekend

We didn't do anything special this holiday weekend. With school closed since Wednesday, I stayed home and putzed around, gardened a bit and worked on my math class homework. Thanksgiving was a simple meal of chicken and mashed potatoes since our oven can't bake well.

This means I haven't hiked much, either, despite the mild 70s weather. I wanted a low-key few days off doing nothing much. This means spend time with the dogs and hang out at home with Kevin and Eric.

Early Wednesday I drove with all five dogs to Hunter Canyon. There were no shooters there yet at 8:30am, the most peaceful since hunting season began. I walked around the old campsite that has now been inundated with targetshooters who come to blow up stuff and leave their trash behind. A walk-around made me realize how shot-up all the oaks are here. What a shame. It wasn't this bad eight years ago when we moved here. Broken ceramics and glass, wood splinters, plastic bottles and beer cans litter this once inviting site. The litter seems to grow every year.

Is the Forest Service doing anything about this? It doesn't look like they are.

I walked around, took pictures, even picked up the trash. When it was time for me to go, four of the five dogs came back when I called: Sammy, Minnie, Sadie. Sara stayed in the truck and never got out. But where was Zeke? I called him numerous times, walked to the old springs and back, up the old illegal trail a little, then drove around the area calling his name. No answer anywhere from Zeke. Where had the mutt wandered off to? It's not like him to be so silent.

An hour later I finally drove home, all along the three-mile drive thinking how life would be without Zeke, a bitter feeling despite the destruction he has caused. We'd be back down to four dogs, a much more manageable size. But losing him was sad nonetheless, as he's a happy and goofy dog. How would I break the news to Kevin and all my friends? Was I an irresponsible dog owner for letting him wander off-leash?

But as soon as I drove into our short drive-way, there was Zeke, wagging his tail. He was waiting by the backyard gate. How long had he been waiting there for me? He, too, was happy to see me again and jumped into the truck when I opened the door. He didn't want to leave. Neither did the other dogs want to get out. Very weird.

And how did Zeke know the way home? Did he wander along StateRoad 92 sniffing the vehicle's tracks? Luckily traffic was minimal and visibility good that day. He's never walked that entire route like the other dogs have.

At any rate I am glad he's back. His temporary absence had me scared.

***

This morning I saw Willie again, meowing for food. I fed him some dry food, gave him some water, and both he and Bobby, his playmate, spent time in the front yard. He's such a beautiful cat; what a shame that he opted to stay feral.