The RiverDog has moved upstream

Ellie has followed the RiverHag to a new site.  Please God, let this be our last move.

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Little Pond

No she is not!

Right here it looks as though my little granddaughter Violet could easily upstage the RiverDog. You might understandably think that, but you would be wrong. Ellie the Riverdog and Grammy RiverHag have a few more things in common, and we go way back!

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Little Pond

Little Hero, Little Buddy

Poor Riverdog got no Chemung today. She knew and didn't want to go out, even hid behind the bed.

I am a great believer in exercise for dogs. Each day, every day, as much as possible.

Not really possible today, though. I am tapering from a Solumedrol drip, and quite weak. I am barely able to walk the block, and must use a cane. Still, I hooked Ellie up to the leash and out we went.

In less than a half block, she had taken over, usually strictly forbidden by me. This time, however, I encouraged her to take us around on her steam. She complied.

How she understands, I will never know, but she surely grasped the problem. She gently led the way, at an even pace, with no tugging or pulling. We stopped here and there, both to give me a rest, and to allow her to pee. She would pause and give me that sidelong look--you know--the one where the white edge of her eye shows, and waited for me to start again or say something.

Now I am exhausted, but I had to post to her blog, to tell you she is well, but I am only now getting better. Soon we will be able to blog fully again, photos and all, of my little buddy.

My little hero.

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Little Pond

Santa Dog

Ellie love Santa, especially when played by MamaDog at PetSmart. This was taken during the SPCA special sittings, all money taken as donations.

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Little Pond

Frosty Eagle

Looking for a frozen fish dinner, perhaps? He flew away and returned, only to fly away again. We left, so he or she could catch some dinner.

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Check it out.

Tramping through the leaves

Storm clouds gathering Halloween Day, and we are enjoying near solitude at the boat ramp.

One last stab at fishing. So far, no catches, thank heavens. But, it's inevitable she will catch something at some point. Just like the hunting. I still feel guilty about the squirrel hunting.

And of course, here she is hunting.

We only tramp the river on weekends now. No time at all on weekdays.

But the River always makes it worth it.

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Little Pond

Very low chemung...

Low river means no fishing. We have to struggle over the stones, just to walk the banks now. Ellie enjoys short dips that enable her to move from one side of the river to the other. She drops out of sight in the tall grass, until I whistle her up again. Then it's back into the shallows to return to me.

No fishing.

It's all low river. Every fisherman said there were no fish to be had. We even saw an eagle just swooping over the river. No luck. Even though I finally figured out that Ellie has been fishing when she swims out to "nothing,", there was no fishing Labor Day Weekend.

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Little Pond.

Late August

Each week I really miss this stuff.

Ellie is such a ham. On Sunday, she was constantly mugging.

And why not? The good weather put me in a wonderful mood, too.

Not like Saturday, when the gray day dampened even the spirits of the local wildlife.

Funny how I never see many kingfishers anymore. Are we the ones scaring them away?

All that swimming and wading. Ellie fished and hunted to her heart's content.

Nothing much new

After a very rainy week, we were delighted to have a dry Saturday morning to walk the paths out in West Elmira. Ellie went her own way, coming only when I whistled for her. It's been a week without much exercise for both of us, leaving her eager and pushing the envelope, and me terribly lame and struggling. I felt bad for her and on the way home I stopped at the boat ramp for some pictures (under RiverHag--Ellie wasn't interested; she poked at the shoreline out of sight.)

Occasionally venturing into the water. Now, this is not swimming. If you see any pictures with her tail straight up, well, she's wading.

I won't encourage her swims near the boat ramps. The water is too deep for me to safely retrieve her if she floats away. And the Chemung River in the Elmira city area is treacherous, with currents and undercurrents that claim lives every year.

But she's so happy and active when she wades. At home she will nap the day away, drained of her usually nervous energy.

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Little Pond

From lush spring to dry midsummer

The river is low, but this part is still dangerous for a little doggie.

That's Jones Island behind Ellie. This part is very shallow, and we can wade back and forth. The water doesn't even come into my hikers.

The only thing we don't especially like is the hard-scrabble area, where the newly high and dry rocks make for tough walking. Ellie instinctively heads towards the grassy parts.

That's summer and soon we can expect the river to drop even further.

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Little Pond

What does she think she sees?

Helloooo, Doggie!

Who's calling me? Do they really know me? Well, no, Sweetheart... The HuggaMutt doesn't like being paged by strangers. She came back to shore, to GrammaDog, for safety and assurance. Fierce on land, vulnerable in the water, and much happier close to me.

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Little Pond

It's tough to visit the ducklings with Ellie.

Mama Duck takes her babies well out of harms way as soon as we exit the car.

We can see her profile, though. She's a proud Merganser Mama.

Her babies look so little compared to even the tiny waves on the waters.

I love the Chemung River in the Spring.

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Little Pond

Ellie and the River greet spring

This uprooted tree is one of many moved by the flooding river.

Ellie enjoys mucking around in the water front.

The flood plain is finally turning green!

The rushing river has scoured the woodlands clean. We look forward to visiting when it is just a touch warmer.

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Little Pond

Dogs don't mind the almost-spring chill.

Our river is gearing up for spring. The trees are beginning to show buds.

I don't understand the greenness of the water. Is it reflecting greenery we just don't see?

Must be. A most welcome color, green.

After all, ochre is the dominant neutral right now. This stump got a bit of a makeover this winter. One would almost guess a bear tore it open.

And Ellie finally took her first swim of the season. She didn't linger in the water long enough for me to frame a shot. In. Out, pretty damned quick. A good, satisfying shake.

And that was the official start of spring in Little Pond

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Little Pond

Warm winter mornings

We have the sort of midwinter days that allow us to stay out long enough for plenty of exercise, but everything looks wintry. Foster Island is still snow covered, but the Chemung is flowing. For Ellie it is a time to check out tracks and scent something in the air.

Funny dog! She like the doggies' tracks as much as if they were deer's. These two shot were from the mouth of Hoffman Creek, completely bereft of all animal wildlife.
The river isn't ice-clogged, but many of the "bergs" are still extant. Double click the picture and check out the river in the upper left.

Those yellow things signal intakes for our local drinking water, and I suspect the attached tree isn't doing any good. Something that size could conceivably cost a fortune to remove.

If it were not for Ellie's pink outfit, every picture would be brown and white...

Little Pond

Our Playground was covered in ice--again!

This is the Grove Street Fishing Access Site on the Chemung River, February 21, 2009.

This is a feeder creek, with the huge ice floes positively back up into it. No way are these from the feeder creek itself, I don't think.

These two gulls are visiting right on the river channel itself. I was very tempted to walk out on the river with Ellie, but, because there is so much flowing water, decided against it.

Just downriver from Elmira the water is completely free. The birds are congregating there, these days. We saw ducks, geese, crows, hawks, and even a harrier. Never saw one of those before, so it will be weeks and maybe months before I ever get a shot of those speed demons.

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Little Pond

Nothing shy of scary

No human or heavy equipment piled all this ice...

Some of it is dirty and in nasty, gritty slabs along the river front, while other chunks glow an ethereal blue. Double click and get a closeup.

Ellie is just tiny next to these stranded floes. She easily walks out on them, coming back to my whistle. I can hardly walk on land right now; Foster Island is slowly flooding over.

Right in downtown are some new pieces of driftwood, making lovely patterns and colors. Too bad this trunk is attacked to a huge, stripped log.

They all are, and are huge just in themselves. Wish I could drive the Tracker down there to haul a few out for the property.

The river is really dangerous right now. Very powerful and full of floes and driftwood.

Add the howling winds of late, and our whole visit was a little eerie.

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Little Pond