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Travels with Tucker

I'm not John Steinbeck and Tucker is certainly no Charley. But after our first year together travelling over 14,000 miles, criss-crossing America, hitting 17 states, I thought it was about time we started documenting our adventures.

The South's Answer to the Southwest

5/24/2015

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It’s been seven weeks since I experienced a proper weekend—a whole 48 hours off in a row. Two days is just the right amount of time—one day for errands and business and the other day for pure relaxation. For the past seven weeks, I’ve been working 12-15 hour days, six days a week. And since Tucker was kicked out of his daycare, he too has been pulling those hours.

He wasn’t kicked out for aggression. He was kicked out for failure to listen to the staff and for his inability even after three months, to read and accept another dog’s refusal to play. When they put him in a “time out” by himself, he carried on as if someone was killing him. Essentially, I have “that kid.” You know, the one who takes up way too much of the teacher’s time and is always getting into trouble because he’s too damn excited to listen to what anyone else has to say. He brings the party with him and expects everyone to join him.

Although I found another daycare that is a “play and train” where he has only two or three other dogs with him and he plays one on one with them while practicing recalls and doing other fun stuff with humans, Tucker hasn’t really gotten sufficient exercise.

So, with two whole days off this weekend, I spent Saturday giving Tucker a spa day: a deep cleaning bath, a good rub down, trimmed his nails, cleaned his ears, washed his collar and played with him for a bit before running my necessary errands.

Today was Sunday-Funday. Tucker suspected we were off to work when we drove the same route to get to the freeway. But alas, once outside the city limits of Atlanta, Tucker finally believed me that indeed an adventure was afoot.

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The long hours at work and lack of recreation has gotten my wanderlust in overdrive and I needed a change of scenery badly—or to just quit and keep on driving without looking back. The latter isn’t in my nature, nor is it fiscally responsible, so I drove 150 miles south of the city to explore the South’s version of The Grand Canyon known as Providence Canyon.
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Georgia state parks are surprisingly dog-friendly. Most allow dogs as their parks are mostly recreation areas to motorboat, hike, and bike. Certainly canines do far less damage.

And in this case, no canine could cause the damage humans did here: this entire park.
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The story goes that in the early 1800’s the early settlers didn’t know much about farming except to take down all the trees to make farmland, so that’s exactly what they did. By 1850, erosion of the soil had begun. (Turns out, trees are kinda important.) And by 1971 when the area was made into a park, some of the erosion lines were 150 feet deep, showing off centuries of soil layers all the way own to the seabed.

Makes me wonder if The Grand Canyon really was Mother Nature’s doing or if  a race of giants irresponsibility farmed the southwest and it eroded away…
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Either way, it’s a pretty stunning spectacle. The thought of taking another hike through the same familiar Georgia mountains this weekend made me sigh with boredom, so I was thrilled to have stumbled upon Providence Canyon in my search of dog friendly hikes last night.

If you go, take the advice of one of the hikers online who said rather than turn right and head down into the canyon first, go left and circle the rim so you can see what canyons you’d like to explore once you get to the entrances to the canyons floor at the end of the loop.

Aside from the vegetation (one hiker gave the place a bad review because “vegetation obscured the view”… really? Too much Nature made it impossible for you see Nature? Wow.), it really is quite similar to the Grand Canyon. Bryce Canyon is no rival mind you, but for Georgia standards, I’m impressed.

(Tucker isn't as easily impressed.)
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Personally, I think that vegetation adds to the beauty.
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One canyon even looks as though the vines have taken over an eroding castle.
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Tucker was incredibly happy to be on a new adventure, following the fence-line and politely pausing while I snapped photographs—even of him if it meant he got to lie down for a moment in the 80 degree heat.
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Once on the canyon floor, Tucker wanted to explore everywhere. He is as goal-driven as I am, needing to see every path to its end, even when the path seems to have disappeared long ago.
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He did take time out to let me know that his spa day yesterday lacked a mud treatment, so he gave himself one in the orange, iron-laden creek soil.
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If you choose to take this hike, bring lots of water. Tucker drank half his supply just along the rim, and drinking the trickles of water in the creek proved cough-inducing with the sand and loads of iron and other minerals it contained.
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Despite the lack of drinkable water, this hike is well-worth the heat. A word of warning: unlike the real Southwest, it's not a dry heat. But aside from the humidity, you wouldn't know you were standing where the Confederate flag once flew.
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I recommend this hike for any other Los Angelino film freelancer stranded for a long tour of duty here in the South. It’s not quite the Southwest, but it’ll do. And it’ll please your pup and wear him out.
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I agree with Charles Schultz that “happiness is a warm puppy”; but a puppy worn out from a day of adventure and hiking with his human companion is pure joy.
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Tucker Wescott: Interior Designer

5/2/2015

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When Tucker first moved in with me, I had to crate him when I left him home alone because he ate inappropriate things.

To recap: there was the wooden spoon he extracted from the dish-drying pan:
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The box he pulled off the dining room table:
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And of course, my beloved favorite hat—of which the brim was given back to me in a pile of vomit at 5am the following morning.
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Since those first few months, Tucker has grown up and his mutilation and destruction of objects has been limited to his own personal belongings. He still has his crate which he lounges in, but the only time I close it is when the cable repair in the house and I don't want Tucker trying to help him.

We’ve taken a ton of training classes in obedience and agility and tricks as I urge Tucker to use his brains over his brawn in all situations. For the most part he does so, and he loves learning so much I feel terrible when I don’t have something new for us to work on.

His most currently acquired skill is closing doors and drawers. However, with this mastered, he’s trying to learn to open doors on his own. I'm not too sure I support him having this knowledge, so I haven't encouraged his extra-curricular studying. He’s getting the skateboarding down, but still hasn’t figured out that it’s not just a “trick” but something fun to do—that he can move of his volition and take charge of where he goes.

Some people believe that dogs can’t generalize and that they simply “react.” But what I saw today proves that dogs don’t just respond with their given skill set, but problem-solve using the ability to foresee consequences and make a plan.

It also suggests that perhaps Tucker is interested in taking some Interior Design classes.
It’s been a rough two weeks at work, spending 14-16 hours a day at the office six days a week. Today, our first day off in a while, we spent the morning together at the Atlanta Dog Jog. We napped on the couch afterwards, and by 3pm, I felt I should be productive. I packed up some boxes, and headed out to the post office and grocery store.

Due to my work schedule,  I don’t have much of a social life these days so Tucker isn’t alone all too often. However, when I do leave for a few hours every weekend to run errands, I return to the house looking perfectly fine and Tucker generally not even caring that I’m back. So after two hours of being away, I was surprised to pull up to the house and see Tucker’s mug at the front window, tongue-out panting.

Let me start by showing you how the front room is normally arranged—including when I left for the post office:
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Tucker met me at the kitchen door, tongue back inside his mouth, and although happy to see me, didn’t appear terribly upset or relieved that I had returned.

I walked by the doorway to the front room, and discovered that the room was now arranged in this configuration:
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At times I have come home to find the pillow down from the chaise lounge and perhaps the lamp knocked over. I assumed he had been trying to look out the window via the couch. I always found this odd because he has a perfect view out the front window if he just sits his butt down on the floor since the window is so low to the ground. 

Today marks the first day that Tucker has actually rearranged furniture—this time utilizing both brains and brawn to move the chair to the window and get comfy to await my return.

I’m hoping he’s not developing separation anxiety. I’m hoping it was, as a friend of mine pointed out, Tucker’s unyielding “determination to get comfortable.”
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I couldn’t yell at him. How could I admonish him for using his intelligence to solve a problem? Granted he’s not allowed to sit in that particular chair (or the chaise lounge for that matter), but I certainly can’t begrudge him for using his brain. Instead, I celebrate it.

Perhaps by the time we return to California, he'll learn to order furniture online and he can fully re-decorate my living room while I’m out getting an oil change.

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    2016.01.03 Home For The Holidays
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    2017.04.22 Out Of The Desert And Into The Land Of Enchantment
    2017.05.05 Someplace To Be; Not Somewhere To Go
    2017.05.20 New Canada
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    2017.06.18 Exploring The 'Hood
    2017.06.24 Bishop's Lodge: Anything But Heavenly
    2017.07.01 Finding Your Church
    2017.07.08 Mother Nature's Springs
    2017.07.22 Beside Every Great Woman
    2017.10.15 Finding (Water)Fall(s)
    2017.10.28 This Is 40... Part I
    2017.10.29 This Is 40... Part II
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    2018.12.15 The End Of The Tour
    2018.12.30 Santa Cruz
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    2019.03.02 Our Own Monterey
    2019.03.09 An Irish Escape
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    2019.05.04 Black Rock And Blue Skies
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    2019.07.20 The Long Way Around
    2019.11.23 All Trails Lead Here
    2019.11.30 Seeking Solitude In All Directions
    2019.12.14 Forest Friends And Soul-Places
    2019.12.21 The San Franciscan Canine
    2019.12.26 An Unexpected Christmas
    2020.01.11 Kicking Off The New Year On The Coast: Part I
    2020.01.12 Kicking Off The New Year On The Coast: Part II
    2020.01.12 Kicking Off The New Year On The Coast: Part III
    2020.01.19 From The Beach To The Bay... Almost
    2020.03.01 Livin' La Vida Local (SF Style)
    2020.03.20 A Place In Which To Shelter
    2020.03.23 Socially Distant
    2020.03.26 Shelter Of Majestic Beauty
    2020.03.28 Follow Your Heart
    2020.04.04 South For The Spring
    2020.04.21 Finding The Way Back
    2020.05.11 First Rate Second Choice
    2020.05.30 Trails Worth Taking
    2020.07.15 A Reflection Of The Bay
    2020.07.22 A Quarter Of The Way To Half Moon Bay
    2020.10.10 Mountain Air
    2020.11.21 The Great Donut Drive
    2020.11.26 Holiday Special
    2020.12.21 The Great Conjunction
    And Away
    But Not Far Away
    Comes The (Water)Fall
    Everywhere
    Maximum Wind Speed
    Nose To The Wind
    Not The Map
    Part I
    Part II
    Santa Clause
    Santa Paws
    The Look Of Discrimination
    The South's Answer To The Southwest
    Tucker Wescott: Interior Designer
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