Ernie

 "We were going through everything this past weekend, and Kim and I think it would work best if you and I take Ernie if anything happens to Mom."  My husband, Scott, had called me from Oregon where he was visiting his family.  His mom was sorting through all of her things, downsizing and moving into a smaller place.  In the process, she was also updating her will and all that went along with it.  Ernie was her three year old Yorkie dog.

"Yeah, that makes sense," I replied, thinking that if we ever did end up with Ernie, it would be years away.  At the time of the phone call, we already had three cats and a seven month old yellow lab named Juno.

Fast forward five months.  "I'll be home this weekend with Ernie."  Scott was once again calling me from Oregon.  Several events had transpired, and we now were the new parents of Ernie.  

I grew up with cats.  I never had a dog until I met Scott.  I like dogs, but I am a cat person to the core.  When Scott and I started dating, he had a yellow lab named Maddy.  It took some time, but Maddy and I eventually bonded.  Over the course of time, we got another yellow lab named Zoey.  Zoey was the best doggie ever, and we adored her.  Time went by, both doggies lived long and healthy lives, and both passed peacefully in old age.  

Then we got Juno, another yellow lab.  Juno is the best doggie ever, and she stole our hearts from the moment we met her tiny wiggly eight week old soul.  She is smart, athletic, energetic, sweet, snuggly, and adventurous.  She did her first backpacking trip at five months old (short mileage but she loved it).  She did her first multi day river trip at seven months old.  Scott took her bird hunting and elk hunting at eight months old.  Juno is a Super Dog.  All three of our cats love Juno.  She is the best doggie ever.  

My dog experience was now three yellow labs.  Big dogs.  Robust dogs.  Dogs with purpose.  Dogs that hunted and hiked and ran and swam and went on the river and were amazing companions and great with the cats.  I didn't understand little dogs.  What do they do?  What CAN they do?  I didn't get it.  What do we do with Ernie when we go hiking or backpacking or on a river trip? 

Ernie's life for his first four years had consisted of being a companion for Scott's aging mom.  He excelled in his task.  He was a great lap dog.  He loved snuggles.  He enjoyed being doted upon.  He got walks every day but always on a leash and usually never longer than a mile.  He had lived in urban areas his entire life, in neighborhoods.  He'd never been on a hiking trail, let alone off leash.  He'd never been in a boat or in a tent.  He'd never seen a cat.

"Ok kitties," I said, looking at our three cats lounging on the deck in the cold March sun.  "You guys are getting a new brother today.  His name is Ernie, and he's little like you."  Lily, our 17 year old cat, yawned and rolled over to sun her other side.  Gigi, 14 years old, jumped off the deck and sat down in the flower bed.  Marge, our 4 year old, followed Gigi off the deck and attacked her.

Later that evening, Scott arrived home with Juno and Ernie.  Juno bounded into the house, excited to see me.  Lily was sleeping on the couch and raised her head, welcoming Juno home.  Ernie trotted into the house after Juno.  He was smaller than I had remembered, at that point tipping the scales at a whopping 13 pounds.  He was cautious but not afraid.  I greeted him with pets as he sniffed around his new house.  Lily eyed him suspiciously from the couch.  It took several minutes, but finally Ernie spotted Lily.  He jumped up on the couch and walked right over to her.  Without getting up, Lily whapped him three times on the nose WHAP WHAP WHAP.  No claws were involved, but Ernie promptly backed up and jumped off the couch.  He gave both Scott and me the side eye, as if saying, "What the hell was that?" 

The next morning, we took Juno and Ernie on our morning dog walk on the dirt roads behind our house.  The roads are traffic free and people free, so we don't leash Juno.  She learned at an early age to not chase the wildlife and to stay reasonably close.  Ernie had never been off leash in his life.  He looked to Juno for guidance.  Juno, all of fourteen months old, found herself in the position of role model for her new four year old mini brother.  She had to give him a crash course in how to be a mountain dog.  The first test was navigating a cattle guard.  Juno knew the routes around every cattle guard on our walk, and when we reached the first one, she took the easy path between the cattle guard and the fence posts.  Ernie ran up to the cattle guard, put his front foot on one of the metal bars, then quickly backed up.  "No, Ernie.  Go around," Scott told him, pointing the way Juno had gone.  "Follow Juno."  At the sound of her name, Juno came back through the passage, sniffed Ernie, then went back through.  "Follow Juno," Scott said again, pointing.  Ernie trotted over, sniffed, carefully navigated the opening, and sprinted ahead to catch up to Juno, clearly pleased that he passed the test.  First mission accomplished.  Juno always carried either a pine cone or a stick in her mouth, so Ernie picked up tiny stick and trotted along next to her.  Juno jogged into the pasture, navigating the snow and the grass clumps.  Ernie followed on her heels.  By the end of his first off leash walk, Ernie had figured it out.

A few weeks later, the weather was finally nice enough to do a hike.  We arrived at the trail head, fully expecting to have to carry Ernie part of the nine miles.  We were wrong.  From the moment we set foot on the trail, Ernie was in heaven.  He and Juno settled into their usual routine, Juno in front leading the way and Ernie following close behind mimicking her every move.  They trotted and sniffed and frolicked.  The world was expanding before Ernie's eyes, and he couldn't get enough.  So many new sights and sounds and smells!  He watched both Juno and us closely, never getting too far from any of us.  Juno kept an eye out for her new brother, and if he got too far away from what she deemed acceptable, she would wait patiently for him to catch up.  Ernie and Juno finished the nine miles easily, and when we arrived at home, they both went out in the back yard and played more.  The thought flickered in the back of my mind: Might Ernie also be a Super Dog?

Weeks passed.  Ernie and Juno bonded.  Where ever one was, the other was.  Whatever one did, the other did.  Both doggies were always SO EXCITED for morning walks.  Hiking was the MOST AMAZING thing ever for both of them, no matter what trail we did or how far we went.  With his new active lifestyle, Ernie dropped two pounds and gained some muscles in his tiny body.  He was fit and happy.

In mid April, we decided to do a five day river trip.  Scott had taken Ernie on the raft for a half day fishing trip a few weeks prior, and he did great.  We thought it would be a good idea to see if Ernie knew how to swim in case something went sideways on the river.  Scott took him to our pond on a warm sunny day and placed him in the shallow water, just deep enough that his feet couldn't touch.  Ernie swam out into the deeper water, did a little circle, and then swam back to shore.  No big deal.  He sprinted up the bank and zoomed around the yard, proud of his new accomplishment.  We were river ready.

A few days later, we loaded up and set off, arriving at the put-in mid afternoon on an unseasonably hot April day.  I buckled both doggies into their life jackets and loaded them on the boat.  Juno sat in the back behind Scott while Ernie rode with me on the dry box in front.  He did great.  He was Mr. Calm, watching the scenery and the birds flying over head.  He rode through the rapids like he'd been doing it his whole life (although I kept a tight hold on his life jacket handle just in case).  He thought sleeping in the tent at night was the coolest thing ever.  He generally got cold around midnight each night and would come nuzzle my face.  I would pull his little eleven pound fluffy body into my sleeping bag where he would wriggle in, get his spot, and not move all night, sleeping soundly.  When we got to camp each day, Ernie and Juno ran around on the beach, checking out all the smells, then digging nests in the sand for their afternoon naps.  In short, Ernie loved the river.

Mid May arrived, and the weather was nice enough that we decided to do a three day backpacking trip.  Seven miles into camp, an eleven mile day hike the next day, then seven miles back to the truck.  This would be Ernie's biggest trip.  Once again, we were prepared to carry him if needed.  As soon as we hit the trail, both doggies were ecstatic.  They knew the trail rhythm now and immediately fell into their familiar routine.  We stopped and had drinks from all the creeks flowing into the river.  Juno waded in the creeks to cool off.  Ernie tolerated me getting him wet to keep him cool.  In spots where the trail got close to the river, we threw the stick into the river for Juno to fetch and cool off.  Once again, Ernie tolerated me putting him in the shallows and splashing water on him.  Seven miles passed quickly and we arrived at camp.  There was a shady bench above the river, ringed by towering ponderosas.  A sunny, sandy beach by the river below the bench offered clear viewing of the night skies.  We opted to set up the tent on the sandy beach.  Both doggies approved.  They trotted around, getting familiar with our home for the next two nights.  Eventually, they both settled in for afternoon naps.

As happened on the river, Ernie got cold around midnight the first night on the trail.  We went through the now familiar routine of him nuzzling my face and me pulling him into my sleeping bag to settle in for the rest of the night.  Juno was cozy in the puffy blanket we brought for them, and Scott was sleeping soundly.  The night passed peacefully.

We were awake early the next day, excited to get on the trail again.  Eleven miles round trip was our goal today.  We planned to hike down river to an old homestead and hang out for a bit, have some lunch, maybe a nap, enjoy the blooming apple trees and lilac bushes.  Once again, as soon as we hit the trail both doggies were in their element.  As went the day before, whatever one did, the other did.  We stopped at all the creeks and took breaks by the river.  Five and a half miles passed quickly.  When we arrived at the old homestead, I pulled out our lunches and we dined happily next to the creek.  Naps were had, the sun got higher and hotter, and eventually it was time to head back.

The hike back to camp was hot.  We were all feeling the heat after months of clouds and cold, with no time to acclimate.  Every shady spot on the trail doubled as a rest spot.  Every creek crossing was a chance to lower our body temperatures.  Ernie appreciated rather than tolerated getting splashed by the creek water, as did Scott and I.  Juno took every opportunity to swim.  Five and a half miles took forever, but we got there eventually, taking our time to not overheat.  As soon as we got back to our beach, all four of us got in the river to cool off.  The doggies dug holes in the sand and settled in for their naps.  That night, we did our same routine of sleeping bag snuggles.

After the long miles from the previous two days, I wasn't sure how Ernie would do on our hike out.  We opted to get on the trail early the last morning to get ahead of the heat.  We all felt refreshed in the cool morning air, and the doggies were up to their usual spunky antics.  We passed a few groups hiking in as we were hiking out.  "Those two make quite the pair," laughed one lady, commenting on big muscly athletic Juno and little fluffy puffy Ernie.  "Will that little guy make it?" another lady asked.  We assured her that he would, that both he and Juno were officially Super Dogs.  We were right.  The seven miles back to the truck passed easily in the cool morning sun.

I expected both dogs to crash out on the drive home, but they were both up and looking out the windows for most of the trip home.  When we got home, they went out in the back yard and trotted around, checking out the new smells since we had been away.  Neither were fazed by the mileage.  

In the two and a half months since Ernie came to live with us, he had reached a peaceful agreement with the cats.  He gave Lily a wide berth whenever they met in the house.  Marge was curious about Ernie, but Ernie was cautious to get too close to Marge after his first interaction with Lily.  The relationship that surprised us most was that which began to blossom between Ernie and Gigi.  Gigi is our most sensitive little kitty.  I am her person and she does NOT like to share me.  Every night after dinner Gigi hops up on the couch and lies on my chest, purring and kneading.  No one else is allowed to come near, including Scott.  Ernie changed things.  Ernie was used to being a lap dog in his previous life, and assumed the same role in his new life when circumstances allowed.  My evening couch time with Gigi was the perfect situation.  One evening as Gigi and I were snuggling on the couch, Ernie hopped up and settled in on my stomach.  He and Gigi were butt to butt.  I waited for the ensuing fight, sure that Gigi would hiss or growl or attack Ernie.  Scott was watching warily from his recliner.  We waited.  And waited.  Nothing happened.  Gigi looked back at Ernie, eyeing him for a few moments, then resumed her purring and kneading.  Ernie avoided eye contact, put his head on my leg, and went to sleep.  This has become our evening routine.  Every night when I lie down on the couch, one of them jumps up followed closely by the other.  Gigi is always on my chest and Ernie is always on my stomach, always lying butt to butt.  Gigi has taken to head butting Ernie in the loving way that cats do, rubbing her forehead and cheeks on Ernie's face.  Ernie tolerates it cautiously, avoiding eye contact as to not upset sensitive Gigi.

Ernie has proved all my doubts unfounded.  He continues to impress us with his great attitude and his zest for exploration and learning.  He is not yet a full blown mountain dog, but he is well on his way.  He has jumped into his new life with all four feet and has never looked back.  He is tiny, fluffy, and incredibly ambitious.  Ernie is absolutely a Super Dog.