This summer on the second section of my 39-day trip, I had a most unusual dog experience second day out.

As I dropped to the East Fork crossing on the Fremont Trail a huge herd of domestic sheep were covering the trail. I was going up the river anyway so I left the trail early and crossed the creek away from the sheep. While putting shoes back on I noticed heavy breathing near my back. Startled I turned around and there he was; huge, pale blue eyes, silky white hair, a broad teddy-bear face, smiling. “DOG” was to become my number one problem for a few days. Dog’s paws were larger than my hand, firmly planted next to me- no attempt to jump up on me. Dog just sat there and smiled politely. I am not a dog person; more often dogs growl and bite me. Well, I had better pet this dog before he bites, I thought. Big Mistake!! From then on Dog stuck to me like glue. Up the drainage I walked, thinking Dog would eventually return to his owner. After a few hours I was getting concerned. I ignored Dog.

The East Fork was beautiful, lush, filled with flowers and below the hulking rock walls of Mt. Geikie to Raid Peak. I followed a distinct use-trail that became faint as I ascended. Small fish swam in the stream, as well as Dog who swam in the stream to cool off. At about 10,200 feet I had to wade across the creek. Momentarily I thought Dog went home. I was hiding behind a bush; Dog came up smiling. Always polite and well behaved Dog never barked or begged and stayed several paces behind me. I tried a stern “go home”. Dog evidently did not speak English. The trail stayed high above the string of lakes before slightly descending to Lake10566. I arrived at my destination by 1:00 in the afternoon – an early stop but I was thankful to get the heavy pack off my back.

I set up the tent. Some food did not fit inside the bear canister so I hung it from a rock. I knew Dog could get the food if he really wanted to but he never even tried. I again yelled, got angry, pointed down-valley, and poked him with my trekking poles. Dog hid in the bushes; I went inside the tent to rest. When I got out, there was Dog behind the tent. I now had a big problem. How in the world was I going to feed Dog? It was a moral dilemma. If I took Dog back to his owners, it would cost me two days and I was not even sure they would be there. My car was 80 miles away. The nearest trailhead was a two-day walk. I hardly had enough food for myself. I had spent more on the car shuttle than I had ever on any backpack trip after planning this trip for months. Should I abandon ship for a stray dog? The only answer I could come up with was that I would have to fish for the dog. One problem, the lake I was at had no fish. Dog was very sweet but obviously not fed. The poor thing was skin and bones. He cried softly when I cooked dinner. I did not give him a morsel hoping he would just go home. I felt like a jerk. At least Dog responds to “no” and is well behaved. I went to bed. It was a clear night and when I got up to pee I did not see Dog; what a relief.

Next day I was up at 5AM and happy to find the tent dry; I was less happy to find Dog right there next to the tent. The food I had hung was still there. Dog cried again when I ate breakfast. Dog barked for the first time and started to run off with my cord for hanging the food. I yelled “no” and he dropped it. At 6PM dew point hit and the tent was instantly wet. That is the problem with getting up too early! Things were not going right. I sponged off the tent and packed it up and at 7AM started up towards Pain-in-the-Ass Pass- a difficult pass with a mile of difficult talus hopping. Dog followed me and I did not look back for half an hour. I thought Dog would go back when we hit the rock. No way. Dog amazingly not only jumped boulders like a pro, he actually found a better route than I did! I reached the top by 8:45 discouraged to find the other side also had its share of boulders to hop. After a rest stop at the lake at 11,200 feet I descended steeply. Dog ran ahead and soon someone shouted to me, “Is this your dog”. “No,” I emphatically replied. When I caught up Dog was being petted and fed by a troupe of Boy Scouts. I told my sad story to the troupe and they agreed to take Dog, catch fish for him and take him out with them in a few days. They could drop him off at the Pinedale animal shelter. This would be their “good deed” for the day. The leader said he had seen this before. Sheep owners do not pay the shepherds enough so they do not feed their dogs. I was really hoping one of the boys would adopt him. As they held Dog, I profusely thanked them and left quickly, not stopping until I reached the inlet to Bonneville Lake 10521.

I never checked with the animal shelter to find out what happened to Dog. I think I really was afraid that they would tell me they had to euthenize Dog. I hope Dog is still alive and has a better home right now. When I told my husband this story, he said Dog was sent to me to make me love dogs! After 11 more days in the mountains, I called home, and my husband told me he bought a Border Collie puppy! I am not sure how much of his decision was due to Dog. I looked at pictures on the internet and I think Dog was a mix of collie, Australian shepherd and perhaps some golden retreiver.


"DOG"