A disastrous walk around Lawlor's Island

I know what you're gonna say: "You've already told us about your walk around Lawlor's Island".

But when I say I "a walk around Lawlor's Island", I don't mean a walk upon Lawlor's Island, I mean a gosh darn walk all the way around the Island.

The view from Lawlor's looking back toward Woodside and the oil storage tanks. 

Of course I wasn't alone on this silly undertaking: I had Trey with me.  I've stopped taking a ball to throw for him, after our last visit where he ran into the woods with a ball, and came back with a rubber boot !   (Hey !  That was a $6 ball you stoooopid dog !)

It didn't take Trey long to find something for me to throw.

On this trip he brought me a running shoe, a sandal, a Croc garden shoe, a rubber boot, a diver's rubber hat, a stick and a six foot tree !

Some things are more throwable than others.

Trey and the tree he wanted me to throw for him. He carried this damn thing for ages.

It wasn't long before the boot was shredded.

Cooling off on damp sea weed.

A thong, or do you call them "flip flops" ?

His pièce de résitance was glomming onto a massive truck tire that was embedded in the sand.  To his profound shock and displeasure, I was unable to pick it up and chuck it into the water for him.

The walk was a mite longer than I expected.

Each time I'd walk around a point, I'd expect to see the end of the island.  Instead I would be presented with yet another cove.

Finally I climbed a hill to see where I was and if I'd be able to cross from one side of the island to the other..

And found that the answer was, "no" as it was too overgrown, and covered in deadfall to cross easily.

But oh, it was pretty.

Looking toward McNab's Island and the far side of Halifax Harbour.

A lobster boat, and Devil's Island can barely seen in the distance.

So what part of this walk was "disasterous" you ask ?

Well, it wan't that it was over four hours of walking over rough and rocky ground on a very hot day.

And it wasn't that my kayak had been carried into the harbour by the rising tide, as this time I had secured it to the shore.

No.

It was something else.

Something that I didn't realize until Trey and I were most of the way around the island.  Something that happened after we'd made it 'round the point and back down to the shore where I blithely threw a stick into the water for Trey.

The "something that happened", happened in this cove.

And I didn't know it had happened until Trey, Trey my indomitable, over-the-top dog, lay down on the sand and refused to get up.

And still I didn't get it.

I thought he was just tired and tried to cajole him into following me down the shore.  After all, it was still a 1/2 km walk to the kayak.

He refused to follow me.

Trey never refuses to follow me.

I walked on, calling back to him, and calling his bluff.

He refused to get up and follow me.

WTF ???

I walked back, knelt down and checked his feet.

OMG !!!

They were shredded !  Every one of his paws was ripped.  Some pads had flaps of skin just hanging off, while on others fresh raw skin was all there was.

I realized too late that in that final cove, I had been heaving his stick into water where just below the surface the rocks were covered in razor sharp Barnacles !   What an idiot I am !   I had no frikkin' clue and of course, Trey refused to listen to his body until it was too late.

Photo after we got home and cleaned his poor paws.

Alone and worried what Trey would do left on his own, I hustled down the shore, got the kayak and paddled back to where I'd left him lying bewildered by my abandonment.   It was over half an hour before I got back to him.  He had moved a mere 50 feet down the shore in a vain attempt to follow me and was just standing there mournfully.

Oh it was a miserable paddle back to the mainland with a sodden, whimpering dog hunkered down down on my lap.

Back home his  feet were cleaned and Trey's enforced period of quiet began so his paws could heal.

That was almost three weeks ago now and his feet are a good as new, but what an awful way to learn a lesson.

It seems that Trey and I are destined to always learn things the hard way.

~~~~~~  ~~~~~~

If you missed my scintillating post about walking on the island and the lesson I learned on that visit, you can see it here.

A post with a viewer warning.

Before the blizzard blew in today, I thought I'd take Wendy, Trey and Sooki into the woods to flag some of the new trails that I'd explored yesterday.

Though it was already windy and snow was falling, it was lovely and calm deep in the snow-covered woods.

It was very overcast so I had brought my compass.  "How are those two things connected?", you ask.
In the winter the sun low in the sky passes behind my house, so by heading toward it, I can find my way out. Without the sun as my guide, I could get lost, or as I like to say "get temporarily mislaid".

Once in the woods, Wendy and Trey love chasing and looking for the ball.  Doesn't matter where it goes, I can always count on Trey's terrific nose to sniff it out.

Sooki has no interest in balls.  She revels in tearing around in an apparent random fashion her nose to the ground, the bell on her collar tinkling gently, always letting me know where she is.

We'd been walking and ball-tossing, and tying ribbons on trees for a while, before I realized I could no longer hear that tinkling bell.

I stopped and called her.

Sooki is a good girl and always comes when called, and when she didn't, and I still could not hear her bell I got worried.  When I stopped I heard a small "squeak" that seemed to emanate from the rubbing tree trunks above me.  Then I heard it faintly again.  I looked up and saw nothing that might have created the noise.

After five minutes of pacing and calling, something caught my eye.  Not far away.  Maybe 50 feet off one side of the trail in the brush, the snow looked odd.

"Why would the snow be pink ?" I wondered vaguely.

Suddenly every fiber in my being reacted with a JOLT !  Beside the "pink" snow stood Sooki.  But Sooki wasn't pink.   She was RED and her face looked so BIG !   WTF ??

In a flash I realized what had happened: reached for Trey, and clipped on his leash.

Sooki was walking timidly toward me.  She hadn't been lost.  She hadn't been far away.  She had been nearby, quietly killing a porcupine !!!

The tiny squeak I had heard, must have been Sooki's coup de grace.

She hadn't even cried out in pain as hundreds of quills pierced her tongue, mouth, nose and chest as the poor unfortunate porcupine tried to defend itself.

Trey could not figure out why I was hanging onto him, and then as I leashed Sooki too, I hurriedly started heading out of the woods.  After I felt safe that Trey wasn't going to go after the carcass, I let him off his leash and concentrated on getting poor Sooki home.  Blood was foaming from her mouth and covering her legs and dripping onto my boots.  I was grateful that I didn't take too many wrong turns on our way out.  Sooki was now clearly in agony, and trying to rub her face along the snowy ground which turned pink in our wake.

Dear Wendy let me hold her collar, and she pulled me up the hill that leads out of the park as I gently tugged Sooki behind me.

Once finally home, I YELLED to Kait, "CALL THE VET -- WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY !".

Before you scroll down, let me tell you that Sooki is back home now and will be fine.

Are you ready ?

You sure ?

OK, you were warned.