by Ed Robinson
“I see that you love it,” she said. “Maybe we should get a dog to go along with you. Keep you company.”
It was an interesting idea even though it came out of the blue. I’d always had dogs in my previous life, but the boat was no place for them. I could barely take care of myself when I started living aboard, let alone take care of a pet. I’d cherished my freedom above everything else. Being responsible for a dog meant I’d be a little less free. Now we had a house and a whole mountain to run on. Properly trained, a good dog would make a great companion on my hikes. I wasn’t completely sold yet, but I agreed to consider it.
I had fond memories of the last dogs I’d owned. Early in my marriage to Laura, God bless her soul, I’d wanted a basset hound. I found a farm that bred bassets and visited them. They had a litter that was still too young to leave their mother. I fell in love with one puppy in particular. I put down a deposit and was told they’d call me when he was ready to pick up. When the day came, I was out of town on business. I called my wife to ask her to pick up my dog.
It turned out that the farm also raised poodles. Daddy basset had gotten out of his pen one night and mated with mommy poodle. The resulting bassadoodles were so ugly they were cute. The breeders were handing them out for free to anyone that would take them. My wife came home with my basset and his half-sister mutt. I named the hound Happy because he looked so sad. She named the mutt Blossom because the first thing she did at our home was to eat some flowers.
Happy was a loyal and loving friend, but also stubborn and willful. Blossom was the sweetest and most well-behaved dog ever. They lived long and happy lives together. Losing them was a heartbreaker, but nothing compared to losing Laura. After that, I’d had no interest in getting another dog. Maybe it was time.
As fate would have it, we picked up a stray on our next trip to town. He was walking along Pigeon Roost Road with no collar or tag. I stopped the car, and when Brody opened her door, he hopped right in. He sat down in the back seat with an eager expression. Let’s go for a ride.
“What should we do?” asked Brody.
“He has to live around here somewhere,” I said. “Let’s knock on a few doors.”
We spent hours looking for his owner with no luck. He seemed content to lie down back there and snooze. At least he was warm. We drove him to the local vet to see if they recognized him. They did not. We asked them to put up a Lost Dog poster, and they agreed. We stopped at the local newspaper and placed an ad with our address, describing the dog as a hound mix. I wasn’t sure what his ancestry was. He was part blue tick mixed with redbone or some other type of coonhound. He sat when you told him to. He went to the door and scratched at it when he needed to go outside. When I sat on the couch, he jumped up with me and put his head in my lap. I scratched his ears for hours, and he remained content until it was time to go out again. No one came to claim him for two weeks, so we took him back to the vet for whatever shots or treatment he might need.
We hadn’t named him properly, but it looked like he was going to be part of our family, so he needed a name. I always thought Blue was a good name for a hound, but he wasn’t blue at all. I decided to call him Red, after a Blake Shelton song. It took him a week to recognize his new name, but once he figured it out it seemed natural. Ol’ Red was my new mountain companion and hiking buddy. He liked Brody just fine, but he loved me. He rarely left my side.
Once we got acquainted, I started taking him on long jaunts through the woods and up the mountain. I kept him leashed because he was prone to chase whatever animals we encountered. At first, he howled and barked that typical hound call whenever this happened. Over time, I broke him of the habit, though he would still whine and whimper when I didn’t let him chase the rabbit, squirrel or deer.
One day I pulled a pair of my dirty socks out of the hamper to be used for additional training. I carried one out in the yard and hid it in the woodpile. I let him get a good sniff of the other one and instructed him to hunt. He put his nose to the ground and trotted off. His nose led him straight to the other sock. It was a great first effort.
Over the next few weeks, the dirty sock traveled farther and farther from the cabin. Ol’ Red tracked it down effortlessly every time. He thought it was good fun. Whenever I showed him a sock, he knew he was about to get free reign to run, as long as he found the other one. He’d bark one time, then sit down and wait for me to recover his find. He got a treat and extended petting time as a reward. I think I enjoyed this game as much as he did.
I switched from the socks to other articles of clothing with similar success. I put the leash back on him so that I could follow closely, just like a real tracking team. He was a natural. We spent at least a few hours every day together in the woods. Sometimes we stayed out all day if it wasn’t too cold. At night we’d sit with Brody on the couch in front of a fire. He’d sleep with his head in my lap while my Brody and I read our books.
I felt some twinges of guilt that we hadn’t found his previous owner. We’d given it an honest try. Red had obviously had some training before we found him. He never once had an accident inside the cabin. He knew when he was being given a command, and did his best to obey. He didn’t chew up our shoes or scratch the furniture. The fact that he had no collar or tags led me to question the choices his owner had made in caring for the dog, but they’d taught him well otherwise. If someone did come to claim him someday, I wouldn’t give him up easily.
Brody was a good sport, but she set some ground rules. No dogs in our bed was rule number one. Our bedroom was a dog-free zone. Red didn’t like it at first, but he got with the program after we bought him a cushy bed of his own. Doggie baths and nail clipping was my job. Picking up poop was my job. He was my dog, so I got the responsibilities. She would make sure he saw the vet when needed and buy his food when she shopped. Other than that I was on my own.
Red used her lap to sleep if I was splitting wood or otherwise occupied, but as soon as I returned, he came to me. I couldn’t drink a cup of coffee without his head in my lap. If I didn’t play the sock game with him, he’d dig one out of the laundry basket and drop it at my feet. All of that traipsing about with him on the mountain helped with my aches and pains. He made me move quickly, and he never needed to rest. I spent less time listening and smelling and more time responding to his cues. He was naturally curious, so when we weren’t tracking a sock, we were investigating every little stimulus that reached his nose.
I’m pretty sure he marked every damned tree within our normal territory. He made the mountain his own just as I had. Brody didn’t have any particular interest in this part of my world, but Red sure did. She’d been right again. It was her idea to get a dog in the first place. Maybe it was woman’s intuition, but it was just what I needed. Without her spurring me on, I would have never considered it; then the Gods delivered him to me. Funny how shit works out sometimes.
Fifteen
Before winter was over, we got our first assignment together. A kid was missing down in Blowing Rock. The land around the child’s home was rugged and mountainous. Volunteers were unable or unwilling to search likely areas. It was cold, and the work was hard. I showed up with Red and spoke with the distraught parents. They showed me a picture of their adorable daughter, who’d somehow managed to sneak off when they weren’t looking.
They brought me her pajamas, which I presented to Red. I carried them with me outside and told him to hunt. He didn’t know where he was, but he was as excited as ever to play the game. He sniffed around the yard for a few minutes before picking up the scent. Off we went into the woods and up a steep hill. He was more determined than usual, perhaps sensing that this was more important than our usual hunts. He found the missing child within an hour. He barked once and sat down next to her. The frightened girl put her hand out for him to sniff. He licked her face at the first opportunity. She giggled and patted him on the head. I swear he smiled.
I picked her up, and we started back down. Red had a strut in his step. He wa
s proud of himself. I stopped and felt around for his treat. He scarfed it down before we presented the kid back to her parents. They hugged the dog almost as much as they hugged their child. She’d been missing less than a day, but if she hadn’t been found before dark, she could have died of exposure that night.
Red was a bonafide hero. My tracking skills didn’t even come into play. All I did was follow him. I was happy to have helped a family in need, but I was equally pleased that Red had come through in a time of crisis. I thought he was special all along, but now it was confirmed. I cooked steaks for dinner that night and gave him a big chunk of ribeye as a reward.
“I’m proud of you both,” said Brody. “Today was much nicer than chasing bad guys. Way to go.”
“It was all Red,” I said. “He was born for this.”
“Should be big points for the karma bank,” she said. “It’s not every day one gets a chance to save a little girl’s life.”
“I hadn’t even thought of that,” I said. “I was just in the moment. A man and his dog.”
“Then you’re making progress,” she said. “You did what was right without considering the benefit for yourself. Another thing to be proud of.”
“I suppose you’re right, as usual,” I said. “How did you get to be so smart?”
“I’m just trying to keep up with you,” she said. “I’ve got to contribute whenever I can.”
“Your contributions are greatly appreciated,” I told her. “I’m forever thankful for you.”
“I’d call us the dynamic duo,” she said. “But it looks like we’re a threesome now.”
Red chose that moment to slobber on her shoes. She scratched his ears and bent down to kiss the top of his head. He looked at me with his doggy grin like he’d joined in our lovefest. I’d become one of those dog people who imagined human characteristics in their pet. I had no choice but to accept this new condition. Red was now part of our family. The mountain man had a mountain dog.
There were cold and windy winter days when I wanted to stay inside by a warm fire, but Red would force me to take him outside. He needed to run and sniff and roll around on the frozen ground for a while. Occasionally, he’d take off in pursuit of a squirrel or rabbit, but he always came back. Once they ran up a tree or disappeared down a hole, he lost interest. He sat there and gave me one bark to let me know he’d done his job. I always thought that hounds would yelp and wail all night long after they’d treed a raccoon, but Red didn’t do that. He wanted recognition that he’d been a good boy. He didn’t really want the animal he’d been chasing.
We got another call from the state police early that spring. A young couple had gone hiking at Crab Orchard Falls and never returned. Their car was still in the parking lot the next day. The teen’s parents hadn’t heard from them. A few volunteers from the church searched the woods to no avail. The county Sheriff was working on recruiting a larger search group, but maybe Ol’ Red could wrap this up in short order. The falls were only four miles from our cabin so I agreed to give it a shot.
The mother of the missing teenage girl brought me a teddy bear that her daughter still slept with every night. I let Red inspect it thoroughly until he sat and gave me his “I’m ready” look. He knew what to do. A deputy followed as Red and I began our hike up the fall’s trail. Brody and I had been to these falls before. It was a half-mile uphill climb. It was the same falls that we’d thrown our shoes over. The deputy was winded by the time we made the falls. Red was not, but he followed the girl’s scent around in circles near the pool below for several minutes, giving the deputy and me a chance to catch our breath.
The two teens had made it to the falls and walked all around, hanging out and enjoying the scenery. They hadn’t made it back, so the question was where did they go next? Red made ever-widening circles around the area, sometimes veering off to check out a promising lead. The deputy and I sat and watched, hoping that he would eventually pick up their trail. I grew impatient and climbed up the rocks where Brody and I had tossed our shoes. It was possible that the kids had been up here and climbed down the other side. Scent didn’t last on rocks for long, but they would have chosen either side of the river to continue their hike. I needed to get Red down there.
“C’mon boy,” I yelled. “Here boy.”
He came to the base of the rocks and tried in vain to climb up to me. He gave up and whined. I went down to assist him. I lifted him up to a flat spot then climbed up myself. I kept repeating the process until we were at the top. I went first on the way down the other side, letting him slide or jump down to me at each level. When we got to the bottom, I had a choice to make. It was a fifty-fifty proposition, one side of the river or the other. Red looked at me expectantly while I made my decision. The eastern bank looked easier to navigate, with fewer rocks and thinner tree growth. If I were a teenager, I’d choose that side. I picked up my dog and sloshed through a foot of water, dropping him on the river bank.
The deputy refused to follow.
“If I got my out of shape ass down there,” he said. “I’d never get back up.”
“I don’t have a phone or a radio,” I told him.
“If you want to wade back through the river I’ll toss you my radio,” he said. “I’ll wait down at the church.”
Red had already picked up the scent and was eager to proceed. He gave me a bark, telling me he was ready to go. I caught the radio and returned to the river bank.
“Go ahead, Red,” I said. “Find them.”
He put his nose to the ground and zig-zagged back and forth through the woods. I’d chosen correctly. He was on the trail. What the hell were those kids thinking, and why hadn’t they retraced their steps back to the parking lot? If they’d spent the night out here in the wilderness, they would have been cold and uncomfortable. It might have been spring, but the temperature was down in the upper thirties overnight. If they stayed for the purpose of romance, the spell would have been broken soon after sunset.
Red kept doing his thing, and I kept following him. At one point he stopped and tried to decide which way to go. First, he sniffed twenty yards to the south, then he switched up and sniffed twenty yards to the north. He was following the path the teens had taken. This is where they’d lost their way. He circled a bit, trying to determine which path to follow.
“Sniff ‘em out boy,” I said. “You can do it.”
He sat for a minute, considering his next move. He looked at me like I could provide him with a clue. When I didn’t, he resumed his search. Something was interfering with his nose. He had another scent that made him curious, and the scent we were working on was faint. I decided to be proactive and take part in the search instead of simply following Red. I started poking around in the brush, looking for clues. One of the places the dog had focused on looked to be trampled down. I knelt down for a closer inspection. Was that blood? It was just a small spot, but it looked like day-old blood.
I called Red over and pointed at the spot. He didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t the scent he’d been given back at the parking lot. I wasn’t sure how to instruct him to look for the source of the blood. I pulled a small leaf off a branch and put it in front of his nose.
“Find this,” I said. “Smell it good, boy. Let’s go find this.”
He cocked his head to one side, not understanding. I’d broken his concentration mid-mission. I didn’t know what else to do. He sat in front of me waiting for an instruction that he could comprehend.
I held the blood sample to my nose, before getting on all fours and putting my nose to the ground. I crawled around like a fool, impersonating a hound dog. Red put his nose down near mine, wondering what the fuss was all about. I put the blood in front of him again. The lightbulb went off in his head.
He broke off and started searching for the blood scent. Around and around he went until he found another spot of blood. He barked once, then continued searching. We were on to something, which was good. We were looking for blood, which was bad. I could
only hope it was an encounter with a sticker bush and not something worse.
After finding another drop of blood, Red’s tracking grew more urgent. He’d figured out his new mission and was working diligently to find the source of the blood. He was practically running now. I did my best to keep up. If he got too far in front of me, he would stop and wait for me to catch up, something else I didn’t think hounds would do. I hadn’t taught him any of this. He balanced his need to hunt with his love for me. He knew that I needed to be with him when he found whatever it was we were looking for.
We found them an hour later. The blood flow had increased until I could have followed it without the dog. The boy was on his back with his head resting on a rotten log. The girl was next to him, holding what had been her shirt over a wound on his chest. Her bra was blood-stained, but she didn’t appear to be injured. I’m pretty sure they were both in a state of shock. Her eyes got big when Red approached her.
“It’s okay,” I said. “He won’t hurt you. We’re here to rescue you.”
“It was a bear,” she said, sniffling. “He needs a hospital.”
The bear scent was what had confused Red. We hadn’t encountered one in our travels. He cautiously approached the girl. She shrunk back from him at first, but when he licked her hand, she loosened up.
“Did he find us?”
“His name is Red,” I said. “He’s been tracking you all day.”
“Good boy,” she said, hugging him. “Can you get us out of here?”
“How bad is he hurt?”
“We didn’t think it was too serious,” she said. “But he kept bleeding, and it wouldn’t stop.”
“Let me have a closer look,” I said. “Don’t you have a phone?”
“We lost signal out here,” she replied. “Now they’re dead.”
The boy had a puncture wound on his side. His chest was deeply scratched, but that wasn’t a serious injury. He had a much deeper gouge on his arm. That’s where most of the blood had come from. I ripped the bloody shirt into pieces and used one length to tie a tight bandage over his arm wound. It wasn’t tourniquet tight, just tight enough to keep pressure on the cut. I wadded up the rest of the shirt and used my belt to secure it around his chest. He was a little guy, weighing maybe a hundred pounds. The girl was even smaller. If I hadn’t been told differently, I would have thought they were ten-year-olds.