Fisher and i have a certain style of walking together, which is to both do whatever we want and then by chance end up at the same place. Walking him in the woods i almost never have to say anything while he runs around out of site keeping his own tabs on my position. I only call him if i haven't seen him for close to 5 minutes. Then i'll stop and listen, scanning as far into the forest as i can. If i can't hear him i'll whistle back down the trail or call his name. Often i turn back around to see him jump out of the trees ahead of me, wondering what's so important that i had to interrupt his important explorations. Sometimes he'll come bursting out of the woods with a 9 foot moose chasing close behind, as if to say "Hey! Guess what I found this world record size moose and it wants to run. I love running! Do you want to run too?" To which my reply would have to be "Why yes, as a matter of fact i do want to run, how considerate of you to invite me!"
In the mountains things are different. I still don't pay attention to him, but since there are no trees i can almost always find him and don't need to call him unless i think he's about to be out of hearing distance of my shouting. In those cases i (or anyone who's with me) may be shocked to see him a quarter mile off and a hundred feet up the side of the valley wall. He gets led off by the shrill whistling of marmots and ground squirrels. They sit perched on their lookouts and when they see him they make this piercing whistle, alerting the others of impending doom. Fisher then makes a b-line to the sound and often by the time he gets to the source another, more distant animal whistles, leading him farther away.
When we are climbing off trail, he knows the routine. We go up up and up, until we get on top of something. I would say that he enjoys looking down across large landscapes. And i enjoy being able to relax after a couple of hours of dodging all the rocks (sometimes small boulders) that he knocks down my way.
National Geographic recently had a feature about animal intelligence,and one of their examples was a super smart dog that knows over 300 words and 15 people by name. Fisher doesn't know that many words, but he does know as many people by name, and, he can spell. He also knows the names many kinds of animals, including rabbits, moose, horses, mice, cats, squirrels, birds, goats (actually sheep that i call goats), bees, bugs and bears.
A mountain warrior (at least he thinks so) overlooking his massive kingdom.
Yes, he's a wildlife enthusiast, in that he's very enthusiastic about chasing wildlife. He has expanded my understanding of what dogs can do (and what they can't or shouldn't). He looks half his age, and can physically perform on that level too. He's become my best hiking partner, and has probably climbed more peaks in Alaska than i have, because he goes hiking with others as well. He is, without a doubt, the greatest animal i have ever known. And it's not just me. He is known around the world as an exceptional dog and his mug was even in a movie with Woody Harrelson and Robin Williams, but was left on the cutting room floor. The movie sucked anyway.
Behaving wrecklessly on the way up Flattop Mountain.
Fisher conquers Wolverine Mountain for the upteenth time. It was my first.
A few months ago Fisher came running out of the woods hobbling on three feet instead of four. I assumed he must have stabbed his leg with a stick buried in the snow or cut it on sharp ice, as he has in the past. The vet's advice was not to walk him for two weeks. Two weeks later he was walking on it but his toes were splayed out flat all the time. Additionally, i could feel a tiny, hard bump in his "Achilles Heel" The vet though he might have an infection, but, since we were about to leave on vacation, we left it at that.
Sonny Young took this picture of Fisher acting wolfish high on a mountain ridge.
He may have taken this picture too. I can't remember. Fisher loves to bury his head in snow. If it's deep enough he'll burrow around like bugs bunny.
On arriving back from vacation 17 days later he was in no better condition, and if anything, the hard little bump actually felt bigger. This time we had a biopsy done. After a week of deliberation or something, they told us it was cancer. The tumor had not metastasized so they wanted to cut his leg off to prevent it from spreading. That seemed outrageous, so we went to a specialist who looked over all the results and x-rays, and, he too recommended amputation. The reason, he told us, was that the tumor had embedded itself among the tendons of his ankle, and was the kind of tumor that has far reaching, microscopic tentacles that are hard to remove. The specialist didn't think he'd be able get everything without ruining the leg in the process.
A ground squirrel may pay with it's life today...
Notice all the dirt flying through the air
Whatever the mission was, it was a SUCCESS!!!
So, it seemed, we had no other option. Last Thursday i took him to the vet again. There they put a patch of time released sedatives on the back of his neck. This was to calm him and get into his bloodstream so things wouldn't be so painfull the next day when he woke up from four hours of surgery missing a large part of his body.
He lives the good life.
They had told us to continue to not walk him before the surgery. During all this time, two months worth, his leg had been wrapped up and he wasn't allowed any walks in all that time. I thought he deserved a few good walks on 4 legs before he never had the chance again. What difference it would make if he got hurt? He was going to lose it anyway. So, Wednesday i took him for a walk up in the mountains. It was an incredibly nice day, one where the sun is hot on your skin while the air is crisp and cold. He was hugely happy running around and rolling in the snow like a maniac. It was the first time he'd been up in the mountains since January, but back then it had been uncomfortably cold. I took some movies of him.
He is adept at taking up as much of a queen size bed as possible.
Sailing the high seas with his sexy forest camo lifejacket. (So he's harder to see while swiming through the forest)
Thursday, after the vet, i took him again. A little colder that day because of high cirrus clouds diluting the sun's energy, but still very nice. The kind of nice day that still stuns me with what a beautiful place i live in. Again, he had a great time, but the chain of events had already begun. I noticed him uncharacteristically stumble once or twice, and when we got to the point where i had previously decided we would turn around he seemed to have already run out of steam. He was content to stop and happily stare down across the 6 mile deep valley towards powerline pass, scouring the vista for any sign of movement, or maybe it was just that he too enjoyed the view.
Look at those big muscles!
I even think his x-rays are cute. It looks just like his cute foot.
We came home for a while but later i had to go to the grocery to buy some bread for dinner. During the ride he didn't bark at dogs getting walked on the sidewalk like he usually would but instead he looked to be relaxed by the flickering sunlight, and was just having a good time, with no idea what process had begun or what was coming tomorrow.
That evening he enjoyed the evening on the porch. The drug was making his back legs heavy, and they kept sinking lower until he would notice and stand back up again.
His head began to get heavy too.
Eventually even his eyelids were heavy.
Later, sitting on the back deck, the drug's power came into focus. He seemed to be innocently stoned, but still had an interested look on his face as he passed his time listening to the birds and watching passers-by on the trail that is clearly visible during winter. A mother moose entered our yard. Her one year old calf came over and walked right by Fisher, only 5 feet away. He stood with his hair up but didn't growl, merely watched. The moose could sense that he was no longer a threat. Later that evening the full power of the drug took effect, and he laid around in semi-consciousness, his personality faded, until we finally went to bed. That was the last i ever saw of Fisher with four legs.
I always liked this picture of Fisher my brother Marc took with an old soviet spy camera or something.
