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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink=purple><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Chapter 13.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Woodland Wanderings<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Curt loved the outdoors. One of his professors said that he was the finest natural field biologist he had had the pleasure of teaching. Many of Curt’s friends were hikers and climbers. On long weekends or school holidays, they loved nothing better than to head out into the desert or up in to the mountains. Not to be left out, Tammy and I learned to hike. She was a marvel at picking the easiest path down and around boulders and drop offs. She enjoyed the scents and sounds of the woods. On one trip to Yosemite, Curt put up a small two-man tent a good distance from the nearest road. We hung our packs up in a tree. Since the tent was barely wide enough for our two sleeping bags, I tied Tammy to a nearby picnic table. She barked intermittently during the night. We were camping with friends from school. I didn’t want her to disturb everyone’s sleep a second time. On the next night, I took Tammy into the tent sharing the edge of my sleeping bag with her. She woke me by leaning hard against my side. Her ribs vibrated with almost inaudible growls. When I woke Curt, he peered outside. He found that a large mother bear and her two cubs were raiding our campsite. Tammy’s barking had spared us a visit the previous night. The voices of our friends called back and forth. Michael, the boy sleeping next to our tent kept whispering to his girlfriend Chris to turn her flashlight on the bear to scare her away. Chris hissed back a frightened “no.” A baby bear was ensconced on the foot of her sleeping bag happily munching down a bag of potato chips. A crash came from behind our tent and all I could picture was our friend Rusty who had brought a folding cot going over in a tangle. It was actually mama bear throwing an ice chest to open it. Curt could see Michael trying to inch away like a six-foot caterpillar. He had tied himself into a mummy bag so tightly that he couldn’t get free. When the bears ambled away, we gathered to assess the damage. We discovered a fat raccoon seated on the picnic table devouring a box of pudding mix. His rotundity attested to his habit of following the bear family on its rounds.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Curt and I were the only ones with any food remaining untouched after the raid. Our packs hung up in the tree had been too much trouble to disturb with so much easier plunder around the campsite. The next morning I cooked oatmeal with raisins and pancakes for all with the dry supplies I had carried. Tammy was fine too as she had carried her dog food in small saddlebags on her harness. They too had been stored hanging over a branch in the tree. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Another trip took us to climb Mount Baden Powell. Tammy’s claws were natural crampons to give her purchase as we climbed. I spent as much time sliding back down as I did climbing. More experienced climbers followed to catch me as I slid passed them. I didn’t try to have Tammy guide. I needed both hands to hold on to rocks and roots. I even gave away my ice axe because I thought I was at greater risk of cutting off a foot trying to chop footholds with it. When we reached the top, our names were recorded in the book and we all sat around enjoying snacks before slithering back down. I decided that hiking trails were fun, but I would remain at base camp with a good book the next time Curt and his friends wanted to climb another mountain! Tammy thoroughly enjoyed the experience and kept within reach in her customary position on my left as we climbed. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>We bought a used tandem single-speed bicycle and Tammy learned to run beside the bike on a long leash. She started out almost pulling us and as she tired, she dropped back beside me. When she started to lag behind the bike, we stopped for a five-minute rest. Then she was eager to go again. She got very excited whenever we brought the bike out of the storage shed. She quickly learned to keep on the far side of it away from the road and enjoyed our trips as much as we did. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Tammy liked the beach too, racing up and down chasing the waves. She was puzzled that the water didn’t taste good. Of course she never ran too far before returning to my side. Only once did she forget her primary concern, (looking after me,) to race off in pursuit of a rabbit that burst from cover nearly beneath her paws. She went from a sedate ramble to a dead run in seconds. A call from me brought her trotting back across the brush with a slightly guilty expression for forgetting her duty. She liked lakes and rivers best for water environments. We bought an inflatable canoe. Tammy overcame her dislike of swimming to chase us across a lake. Her desire to always keep me in sight resulted in her overcoming her timidity in any situation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>The summer we graduated from college, we drove across country visiting 21 states. Since we only had about four hundred dollars to spend, we camped out each night and cooked over a camp stove. Most of our money went for gas and for entrance fees to sights along the way. We stopped to pick up my youngest brother in Michigan and drove to Washington D.C. At the national zoo, kudu came to the fence and hung their heads over to call greetings to Tammy. The Siberian tiger appeared to be wondering if guide dogs were good eating. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>At the F.B.I. building, our tour guide demonstrated shooting off a revolver and a machine gun. Tammy only lifted her head from where it was resting on my foot to glance at him. She seemed to think that if I weren’t worried about all the noise, then there was nothing to concern her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>When I climbed up a ladder exploring a blockhouse at Fort Bridger, I turned around to find that Tammy had followed me up. Of course, she couldn’t quite manage getting down the ladder. Curt had to carry her down.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Since she had never been trained to use escalators safely, Curt was put to the task of carrying her on those too. She seemed to smile and wagged her tail frantically each time she was given a ride in this fashion. I sometimes got the impression she went out of her way to find reasons to be carried. Since she had now finished growing, she was a hefty ninety-pound load. This was just another task for that guy who insisted on being a part of our family, dog porter. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in'><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"'><o:p> </o:p></span></p></div></body></html>