It happened the first time maybe a year ago, on our second visit to Lake Mohegan. I’d parked in the lot near the Cascades. My game plan was to walk around the lake to the main beach/recreation area, then continue the loop back to my car. Kemba and I had taken this route the only other time we’d been here. The landmark I was looking for near the Cascades was the footbridge, but I didn’t seem to be reaching it as quickly as I’d expected.
Now usually when we walk in the woods, Kemba wanders pretty far ahead, but stays on the same path, checking back on me from time to time. This time, though, whenever I veered left, he refused to follow. I assumed he’d find me eventually, and didn’t worry too much . . . until I heard highway traffic in the distance. What if he’d wandered off and was in harm’s way?? I panicked, and called for him — loudly and urgently. Out of the woods bounded my duck dog, a speedy streak of red with those wild tufts of fur sticking up comically from his ears, and that eager, ready-for-anything look on his face. He showed me he was all right, then once more, took off — again, to the right.
This time, against my directional instinct, I followed. And when I spotted him again, he was waiting patiently, in his “poser” stance (this is what our friend Marcie has named his dog-show-perfect “sit” position), at the foot of the very bridge I’d been looking for, clearly wondering when I’d finally wise up and let him lead the way.
Because, let’s face it. When it comes to sense of direction, I’m in the bottom one percentile, world-wide. I can’t find my way out of the doctor’s waiting room. (I’m as likely to wind up in the coat closet as the hallway to the elevator.) And map reading? Nope, similarly challenged. So having a dog who knows his way around is no small plus.
A little over a week ago, on a Sunday, I decided to give Brett Woods a try, at the suggestion of Dede My Dog Park Friend. Kemba and I were having a grand old time of it — sunshine, blue
skies, warm temps — but whenever I emerged from the maze of trails and arrived at a park exit, it wasn’t the one where I’d left the car. I tried a few more paths, but by now we’d been walking for well over an hour and my belly was telling me, “Lunchtime!” So I said to Kemba, and I quote: “I have no _ _ _ _ _ _ _ idea where we are. We need to find the car.”
On the spot, he reversed direction, and took off. I followed. At one particular fork, he paused momentarily. “We need to find the car,” I repeated. Decisively, he galloped to the right. Again, I followed. Not more than five minutes later I spotted him in the distance, in his poser stance, of course, waiting at the preserve’s North Street entrance, with my blue Jeep Wrangler clearly visible just over his right shoulder.
Note to self: When it comes to navigating in the woods, leave the decision-making to the duck dog.
LOOK FOR A NEW BEAGLE MAN POST EVERY THURSDAY. OR PRETTY CLOSE TO THURSDAY. COULD BE WEDNESDAY. OR FRIDAY. LET’S NOT GET TOO OBSESSIVE HERE . . . OH, AND BTW, YOU CAN ALSO FOLLOW ME ON FACEBOOK, TWITTER, AND INSTAGRAM.
That is one useful dog!
The answer to the mystery is that Kimba smells the trail you walked on when you started from your car and follows that. I watched a TV show with a bloodhound on the trail and the dog handler explained that we humans constantly shed skin cells which fall to the ground and to the dog with its super sensing nose, the trail lights up like a neon sign. However, that explanation still makes Kimba one very useful dog indeed.