A Face Full of Quills

One last overdue story from the road trip to Maine this summer- I talked about the car break downs, traveling with my dog, dog parks, but not about the “quilling” that made life so very exciting for a few hours.  If exciting is the word I want, hmm painful for my dog, a wild mouse ride for me, and money flying out of the wallet at the end of it all. Perhaps “exciting” isn’t quite the word I want, memorable.  Memorable moments.

I had just arrived at my brother’s home, 5 miles up a small Berkshire mountain, it was toward dusk and after having been cooped up in the car for a long time, I was glad to let him out where he was free to run and explore.  Wonderful catching-up time with family, and my lovely niece and her son until, about one hour into the visit a whimpering, yelping, sound reached us and oh no!  Dog in distress!  A large woodpile nearby must have been home to a porcupine who was now willing to come out for his crepuscular crawl and there was Tuck, none too wise in the ways of porcupines, to greet him.  None of us saw what happened but we didn’t need to, running up, whining and crying with a face, tongue, gums, full of quills told it all-so much for relaxing family time. 

My brother knew of one Vet that was open at night in a town about 20 miles away.  Bless my niece who hopped in her truck with her son and led me on a Wild Mouse, twisty, turny high speed run down the mountain.  I never would have found the place without her and with Tuck going a little crazy in the back seat, trying to alternately claw at the quills or throw himself against the back of the wagon, while we careen down hills and around corners.  We were lucky to “arrive alive”!  Also lucky this wasn’t a bleeding event or something more serious.  The down side to living in such a remote beautiful place.

Of course, they have to put a dog out to remove them, which interestingly they really don’t do, they just clip the quill and hope the rest will dissolve in time.  I wonder if it was a young porcupine for none of the quills were that long.  And luckily they won’t be too likely to work there way into some organ as they might if he had had some undetectable ones.

 Perhaps you know that the quill has a barbed end that continues to work its way into the animal as they move, going ever deeper.  What a sad fate for any wild animal who gets too close, but that I am sure, is what makes it the wonderful defense it is.  I imagine most wild animals know to stay clear, at least after they have had an encounter.  Also I am sure you know that they cannot “shoot” their quills at you, as some people used to think.  You must have them make contact with you and then the quill releases from their body and into yours. Ouch. 

The quill is really a modified hair coated with thick plates of keratin, (think fingernails) and they are interspersed with the regular fur and underfur.  They are constantly being replaced for they will simply shake out too when the animal shakes its coat.  I bet you have seen them in jewelry and earrings and Indian decorations.  And no surprise, with such a great defense, the porcupine is one of the longest-lived rodents, which still is only 5-7 years but for a rodent that’s good!  Picture all those untimely endings for the hamsters in your life.

So, he survived, and back in Texas there are no porcupines, just snakes and fire ants and scorpions, but so far, so good in those areas.  I have to admit to missing Fall as I know it, but we shall see if there aren‘t some aspects of life here that will make blogable topics in the future.  And if you are having a tough day, be thankful you aren’t this dog!  Poor baby!  This other dog on the right looks more like Tuck did just to give you an idea.  Again, ouch!

 

Travels with Tucker

On my recent 6,000 mile trek I was more than glad to have my dog along.  Company when the car breaks down, a reason to get out and walk and sniff every interesting looking roadside park from TX to ME, and the impetus to Google Dog Parks along the way.  And I must say we found some gems.  Best, hands down, was a place called Shelby Park right outside of Memphis in Germantown. 45,000 acres of pastureland dotted with small fishing ponds, friendly people and their dogs, and friendly fisherman- a wonderful break from the highway.

On the way up to Maine I was surprised by how green it was, but not by how hot it was.  July in the south, no surprise this would clear my pores pretty thoroughly.  Is that a polite way to put it?  It was so lovely though that I promised both he and I that I would do my best to find a way to go back on our return.  This time there was a light rain, fewer people but more birds.  The ubiquitous Blue Heron would be startled out of one pond, land in another, only to fly away as we reached that one.  Poor guy, had he gone backwards along our trail instead of forward this wouldn’t have had to happen so many times.  Still, nothing adds a prehistoric touch more than the “Croooonk” of a Blue Heron as he lifts off.  Not hard to imagine other therapod types rustling in the high grass.

 

And, to be honest about my often puzzlement in identifying hawks, I sat under a tree waiting for this pale-chested hawk to take off and show some other ID marks, however, someone coming over the hill in a Jeep made me turn my head, and when I looked back it was gone.  Lovely and intent of eye and moving his head all around to get a better look at me, but what kind?  A Memphis hawk shall we say? 

On the way back I stayed outside of Memphis, because, what was the chance of this?!, it was the 35th anniversary of Elvis’s death and the radio kept saying thousands had shown up for the vigil.  Didn’t need to be a part of that.  Yet, after Tuck and I finished the hike I decided, for the first time in a 4-week trip to stop and have breakfast.  And who was filling every booth?  Elvis look-alikes!  It was surreal!  Aging men in black toupees and rhinestone outfits.  Had I not stopped at the dog park and worked up an appetite I might not have found this place and in the end, it was one of those, “You aren’t in Kansas anymore” moments.  Clearly Graceland was nearby. 

So, if you find yourself on the road with your pooch, I recommend looking for the dog parks and see what little slice of local life you may come by.  Who knows maybe it will be wigged and bedecked in rhinestones if you play your cards right!