Dickens’ nose knows all
My bird dog’s nose is a gift in the fall.
During spring, it’s a curse.
Before sunrise, as soon as the first valley quail calls “chi-CA-go” in the yard, Dickens takes his position at the bedroom window.
The English setter has made sleeping past 6 a.m. impossible for my wife and I while the quail are mating and nesting outside around our yard.
He stares out the window into the gathering light with an intensity that might shatter the glass if he didn’t break occasionally to my bedside, where his eyes plead with the persuasion of little spears penetrating my skull. Then he sprints back to the window and locks into place.
It’s not clear whether Dickens is titillated or tormented by being equipped with a nose several million times more sensitive than mine.
He can’t even relieve himself without orienting himself into the wind. Then he’ll relocate for a better position so that no scenting opportunity is lost when he finally squats – head up, nostrils flaring, eyes fixed and not to be distracted by anything sans feathers.
I’m not exaggerating. This bird brain won’t even take time out to go No. 2.
He is an absolute slave to his nose.
The making of good pointing dog lineage is among the most spectacular achievements in nature.
The receptors in Dickens’ nose have been genetically programmed to sort through the odors of sagebrush, cow pies, flowers, barbecues, vehicle exhaust, factory emissions and a zillion other fragrances in the air to focus on the particular molecules emitted by birds.
And not even every bird.
Robins get a pass from Dickens’ pursuits. His nose can distinguish sight unseen between a starling and a quail.
Beyond that, his breeding took another seemingly impossible leap.
In a pointer, the predatory instinct to pounce on prey is supplanted by the will to freeze.
How many thousands of years would be needed to produce a line of teenage boys who could be trained to hunt all day, covering 30 or more miles of rugged terrain, and then lock motionless 5 feet away from a hot pepperoni pizza?
I can write off the inconvenience of Dickens’ obsession with birds as the price of having a great hunting bird dog for the fall seasons.
But the instincts have become a huge setback for my wife, who’s trying to train for some serious outdoor adventures we have planned for summer.
Meredith has had to temporarily give up on Dickens as her faithful walking and running companion after recent training sessions. In two outings, she could never break a sweat.
“We got to the road and he went on point,” she told me back at the house. “I couldn’t budge him for five minutes. I was running in place.
“Finally the quail flew. I got Dickens to move two steps and he went on point again – on the quail up in the tree.
“I picked the dog up and he was like a statue. His legs were stiff. I turned him away and the only thing that moved was his head, so it could stay pointed at the quail. So I put him down and he just stood there.”
When the bird flew away, Meredith said, getting ready to go out for a run all by herself, “I had to drag Dickens home. All he wanted to do was go hunting.”
Bad dog.
Forests slowly open: National Forests in the Inland Northwest are taking baby steps toward getting hikers on the trail and visitors into campsites.
With the help of the Washington Backcountry Horsemen, the Priest Lake District has cut downfall off most of the lowland hiking trails on the west side of the lake. The Navigation Trail was cleared during the Memorial Day weekend 2 1/2 miles in to Plowboy Campground, offering one of the few choice overnight hiking options in area forests.
Most Priest Lake drive-in campgrounds are at least partially open, with the notable exception of Luby Bay, which is closed for construction until about July 5.
Snow still blocks access over Pass Creek Pass between the Priest Lake and Sullivan Lake areas.
Along the St. Joe River, a road slide about a mile upstream from Fly Flat Campground still blocks access to the Red Ives area, including the Beaver Creek, Lion Creek and Spruce Tree camping areas. Snow is blocking travel over Moon Pass and Gold Pass, the two popular routes to the St. Joe from I-90.
Patience.