Hi! I'm Grace Evans and this is Dry Spell, my weekly letter of off-season reflections on canoeing.
Dash genuinely seems to enjoy canoeing.
He stands up, resting his front paws on the gunwales. He’ll look for a while, then put all four paws down, walk to the other side to hop up and peer over the edge. He doesn’t tip the boat because he only weighs 13 lbs. He angles his body to see more out of his only eye. Occasionally he squeals if we paddle close to birds but mostly he just takes it in. He doesn’t even mind the life jacket.
In Algonquin I encountered a woman accompanied by a long haired cat. She was explaining to interested passersby on a portage that the cat just loved canoeing and it was his sixth trip through the park. I rolled my eyes, like how do you even know, and yes, I realize this makes me an outrageous hypocrite.
It became routine to hop in the car with Dash and meet Emily at the marsh. When we stopped for snack breaks in the shade Dash squelched through mud or sat in the grass. I was impressed by how close by he stuck to us during shore stops, how much he kept his eye on us for cues. If he wanted to hop up on the middle seat he checked with me, made sustained eye contact, and only jumped if I didn’t object. I adopted him 3.5 years ago and he’s mostly kept to himself apart from the occasional snuggle, preferring to curl up on a dog bed in a corner, or lay in the sun for nine hours in the backyard. Now he’s always ready to go.
I brought Dash along on my second Algonquin trip. At Canoe Lake, once we’d loaded the canoe with gear, I plopped Dash on top to enjoy a comfortable viewing platform. It might have been first day nerves but it was also very cold, and he was shaking. So instead I sat him between my legs, half underneath my seat and wrapped him in my sweater for the first paddle.
At our campsite it hit us how cold it was. Emily, Sam and I kept adding more layers while Dash leaned against the overturned canoe in the sun. But the sun was fading and I started to worry, what if he couldn’t get warm enough? I skeptically put his coat on and he gratefully snuggled into it. But he was still cold.
I experimented with a few different configurations but what I settled on was my fluffy down sleeping bag fully zipped, wrapped around him and placed inside a pocket of thick plastic I’d brought as an extra mini tarp. I rolled the edges down so that it protected the bag from moisture and dirt but didn’t suffocate Dash. He snuggled deeper into his nest, poking his nose or eye out of a small opening. He stopped shaking. Even after it warmed a few degrees the next day he retired to his comfy cave by dinnertime. Later, he crawled into my sleeping, as depicted in last week’s comic.
One day he briefly chased a couple of mink that scampered through our campsite play fighting, returning to my side immediately when I called him. But when a trio of Canada geese swam up to the rocks on the point Dash lost his mind. He detests getting wet, so it was shocking when he ran screeching into the water up to his knees, or whatever they’re called on a dog. I called him back worried he might launch himself into the lake and swim after them. Eventually I had to go pick him up and cover his little eyeball until he calmed down and the geese had moved on.
Over the four day trip Dash joyfully scampered around our site on Tom Thomson Lake. He confidently followed Sam into the brush to gather firewood. He laid out in the sun on warm afternoons. Emily snuggled with him in front of the campfire. Sometimes he accompanied one of us to the thunderbox. When the sun sunk behind trees he peered out from his cocoon. In the mornings, he sat and looked out at the misty lake. My favourite way to see him was perched on gear in the canoe, tucking his chin into the yoke and looking to the stern, or facing forward with his snout in the breeze. Always watching the scenery.
It could be because I’ve been home more during the pandemic but Dash clings to me now. I think part of it is our outdoor time together. We read each other for signals. He’s always watching me with his blinking eye. We’re enjoying winter walks around the marsh, but I can’t wait to get back in the canoe with him.
Links:
Master birchbark canoe builder says they're a vital tool for reconciliation:
Chuck Commanda, Algonquin Master Canoe Builder: "And by canoeing, then we all share something in common, our love for being on the water, love for being in the outdoors. We all assume that shared responsibility of being stewards of the land."
[CBC]
Why You Need to Bring a First Aid Kit for your Dog:
I read up on taking dogs to the backcountry and made a dog first aid kit using in case he got stung or injured, or ate something poisonous. I used Cobi’s blog post as a guideline. Her dog was stung by something in Algonquin and she wasn’t prepared, and didn’t want that to happen again. Poor Banjo’s face swelled right up!
Thanks for reading Dry Spell. I’d love to know what you think; please feel free to reply to this email!
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