Ella here. It’s been quite the active summer over in my neck of the woods, hence I’ve been too busy (per the norm) to check in all that often. Guarding a house of such substantial size from the imminent threats of woodchuck, raccoon, skunk and feline intruders is no small task, after all.
Peer closely; there’s more to that tree than meets the eye.
Nonetheless, I’ve managed to squeeze in a couple hours here and there to entertain friends, like my newest pals Wallace and Charlie, who brought their dads down for the weekend. I mean, I’m a pretty good judge of intellect and good looks, and I’d say these brothers have got it going on.
Wallace, in particular, is quite the catch. Mom says I’m not allowed to get married until I’m 9, though. You’ve got three years, Wallace, and then I’m coming for you.
While the humans drained pitcher after pitcher of mimosas, those of us of the superior breed plotted out the afternoon.
After much debate, I decided to take my new friends down to my favorite stretch of greenery in the area, Old Stone Fort State Archaeological Park, where they know me by name. I’m kind of famous in these parts, y’all—it’s best Wallace know that upfront.
Tennessee’s got 56 state parks, and while I’ve only been to a handful of them, I’d be so bold as to say that few are as bad ass as Old Stone Fort. Not only is there a pretty creek I love to swim in, but also a couple of waterfalls under which to slick back my mane and oh-so-many trails for us seasoned athletes to run.
Old Stone Fort is basically the best place ever.
A few weekends later, I took Mom and Dad out and about again: this time to Beersheba Springs to hike Stone Door, from which we could see for miles. I’m not entirely sure how far a mile is, but it seemed a doggone good distance. I’m pretty sure I saw Chattanooga just over yonder.
I just love communing with nature, don’t you?
Contrary to popular belief about us little dogs, we can hang with the best of them, and I was leaving both Mom and Dad behind in my dust as we climbed stone staircase after stone staircase through the tight rock formations.
I’ve become a bit of a historian since moving back to my roots in Tennessee, and I’ll tell you that this trail is part of the South Cumberland State Park, which straddles four counties.
Nearby is the Fiery Gizzard Trail, one of Mom’s favorite hikes, but she says she avoids it in summer months due to rattlesnakes and ticks. I told her not to worry, I’d protect her, but she said better safe than sorry (to which I say: LAME).
We stuck to the Savage Gulf part of the park, which has around 55 miles of trail to explore and even a slot canyon or two that Dad thought he’d monkey over in an attempt to give Mom a coronary.
He likes to do that from time to time.
Of course, the big news of the hour that I’ve been keeping from you for months is this: I got a sister! (No, not of the human variety—cool your jets, readers.)
Just a few weeks after my human granddad went into the hospital for something they’re calling a stroke, my grandmother got a call that there was a dog in need, and before you know it, Maggie arrived to town.
And if she seems familiar, you have a keen sense of smell for a human.
And while I’m normally pretty indifferent to others of the nation within, Maggie? I flippin’ love her.
We’ve already become best buds. She’s a gentle giant and swears she won’t eat me.
And it took no time until she integrated into our herd rather seamlessly.
OK, she might stick out like a sore thumb, but don’t tell her that. She thinks she’s tiny but mighty like the rest of us.
Anyway, it’s time for a nap. You’ve taken up too much of my time and I’ve been up far too long (at least an hour)—this kind of beauty doesn’t come without a lot of hard work, y’all (i.e. snoozing and snoozing some more).