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.
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.
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.
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.
And in this case, no canine could cause the damage humans did here: this entire park.
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…
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…
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.)
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.)
Personally, I think that vegetation adds to the beauty.
One canyon even looks as though the vines have taken over an eroding castle.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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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