Our Dog Learns to Haul Firewood

Learning to haul firewood

On October 25, we awoke to a silent, frozen lake.  No water lapping at the shore, no ducks tempting our dog.  Ten noisy flocks of geese (50 -100 birds each) flapped southward on that day alone.  They knew it was high time to head out.  How far do they fly in a day? Where do they find water -perhaps rivers - which freeze later?   Given our weather, I was astonished to see a float plane fly north several days later when I outside was in the wood fired hot tub, and wondered, “Where the heck is he going?” NORTH????  It had to be a river.   

The day after the lake froze, our chocolate lab, Buddy, ventured down to the dock and tentatively punctured the thin ice with his paw, to explore it.  Perhaps he saw his reflection, like Narcissus.  He bent down to sniff the transparent surface and then lapped up some water from the hole.  He repeated this a few feet to the right, as though to confirm his initial experience. 

Two days later, he trotted out 30 foot ellipses on the thickening ice. I was a bit nervous that he might break through, but he was fine.  His toenails sounded EXACTLY like a woman in high heels traversing a marble floor!  All of a sudden, he spied a coyote along shore.  He tried to run but slipped and slid like the three stooges, during which time the animal ran off into the woods. During these initial days when the ice thickens, it makes eerie booms, shots, and groans. The dog is nonplussed by these sounds.

On shore, he trots, leaps and runs through the snow.  Early November storms raised the snow depth to 19 inches (chest high for him, knee high for me) and then deeper and deeper.  He plows through, digging with his whole head thrust into the snow, after which he shakes his head clear and sneezes.  On our walks among our buildings, Bryan and I point out tracks of hare and voles (meadow mice) which he explores, squeezing under decks and outbuildings when he smells a critter or two, who remain safely out of reach. 

Excitedly approaching Bryan

Given his enjoyment of the cold, his need for exercise, and his enthusiasm for “helping” us, I trained him to haul sled loads of logs about 60 feet from the wood corral to the back porch.  First I had to get him familiar with a chest harness, which, of course, he wanted to chew.  Then, I had to figure out the length of the sled rope so that when he turned around in curiosity, he wouldn’t get tangled up and flip the sled.  Finally, I had to add enough log weight that the sled would not bang into his back legs when he stopped.  As you may imagine, this required several practice sessions and lots of peanuts and praise.  On our fifth try, we had a kinda-sorta success, and on our third day, he successfully hauled (with more enthusiasm and less confusion) three sled loads of 8 or 9 logs each while I hauled a larger sled ahead of him.  A week later now, he gets excited when we start to load a sled with logs for him. We discovered that he was just as willing to haul without the harness, by simply picking up the rope in his mouth and pulling backwards.  After he chewed through the rope several times, we threaded a long wire through two holes in the sled, and attached a smaller rope to that, which the dog puts in his mouth.  This worked well.  Twice this week, he even hauled a generator downhill with Bryan, from the power shed to the cabin, a 400 ft distance.  This enthusiasm will come in handy for these rather tedious winter tasks, especially as we age (ahead of him). 

When we cut trees in the woods in March, Buddy will help too.  After Bryan limbs and bucks the tree into logs, Buddy and I will transport loads in the same plastic sleds he hauls now.  I will load two sleds with logs and our 6 legs will move them from where the tree fell to our 11 foot sled/ snowmachine on a hard packed trail nearby.  I bet he will love to run behind me as I navigate home to drop thick logs by the wood corral and thin ones by the hot tub.  I look forward to more inter-species teamwork.   

 His outdoor enthusiasm motivates me to enjoy more aspects of the long winter season, too.