I took Wendy, Buffy and Trey for a nature walk in my woods today.
Not long after we set out, Buffy's excited barks rang out. I tracked her down.
The darn dog was halfway up modest-sized evergreen.
She was climbing the tree. She was really climbing the tree -- and getting higher,
and higher.
Her quarry, a young porcupine, sat stoically on an upper branch: back turned, tail in "ready-to-whack" position.
Buffy got to within a foot of it. I imagined a scenario in which she reached the porcupine, got a face full of quills and fell out of the tree. Or worse still both of them fell out of the tree. At that point the other dogs would have joined in the act, and it would not have gone well for the dogs. I can't imagine the porcupine would have enjoyed it either.
Happily, exhausted from jumping, yipping and climbing, and much to the relief of the porcupine AND me, Buffy gave up.
Self-satisfied and tired she resumed our walk.
