It has been a couple of weeks or longer since Chipley has gone for an evening ride to see the cows. A couple of days ago I decided: this dog needed to visit his cows. So, I loaded him up in the car along with Cocoa Joy and off we went. He whines like crazy when he sees his friends, and they all come up to the fence to say hello. It’s just too much for words.

I thought I would include this little photo and underscore the fact that there are things dogs do when we are not around that we just don’t want to know about. Right? Right.

Always when I get a new lens or camera, there is a learning curve. The first couple of shots are great and then something happens. Usually it is called “user error.” I’m trying to deal with learning how to use an ultra wide angle lens and the place I chose to give it a try was Tallulah Gorge. It makes no sense because as I have written before, there is really bright light at the rim of the gorge and very dark shadows at the bottom. But since I’m not claiming to be a professional photographer, I can do (and will continue to do) goofy things and get away with them.

Cocoa is silvering on the top of her head. I thought about dying her hair, but I know that would be a little messy. She will just have to be herself—no matter what stage of life she’s entering. Here’s a photo of her with Chip—the one who sticks “closer than a brother.”

Part of the fun of living in northeast Georgia is being able to jump in the car with the dogs and drive to the mountains in a short amount of time. Last Sunday, I had a brilliant idea that turned out to be not so brilliant. I decided to go to Lake Winfield-Scott—a beautiful little lake south of Blairsville, but not too far from Neel’s Gap. I thought that I could drop by the lake, let Chip play in the water and then visit Blood Mountain, which is located on the Appalachian Trail.

But the trip started off badly when I took a wrong turn and headed farther west than I wanted to go. It took twice as long to get to  the lake. So the dogs were wild and everyone wanted to get OUT of the car. I also realized that it was now run by the Federal Government. This means there was a five dollar fee for  “day use.” I looked at Chipley’s pleading eyes and thought, “I’ve come this far; I can’t turn back.” So, I slipped the money in the brown envelope, slid it into the metal slot, and entered the park hoping there would be hiking trails for the dogs. There was a little path but nothing more and certainly nothing that would cause Cocoa to give this walk anything more than a “one paw.”

The lake really is beautiful. It’s flat out charming and something worth seeing under the canopy of fall. On the way to the dock area, Chippy spotted a little ramp going down into the water. He immediately starting crying like he does when he wants something very badly. I was talking with friends, and we just thought it would be fine to let him paddle around in the water for a few minutes. I had packed extra towels and the sun was bright and warm so I knew he would dry quickly.

As we approached the water, he made a lunging move that was a little shocking. I remember saying, “Don’t let him go out very far.” But it was too late. All I can say is that I can now testify to how a child can drown in six inches of water.

I’ll never know why he decided to put his face underwater. It’s something that is known only to him, but within a second he was limp and was drowning! There was no time for fear, panic, or anything else. We quickly pulled him out of the lake and placed him on his side. After another second, he coughed and out came lake water. He looked up at everyone with a very stunned look as if to say, “What just happened?”

This is about Chip’s third “near death” experience. I’m beginning to wonder if he sees bright lights and Jesus every time he does something like this. Chipley is too much “boy dog” for his own good. He’s more like a half-pint of Labrador Retriever than a small Cocker Spaniel. When it comes to Chip, we now have a check list of things to avoid. Swimming is at the top of the list, along with being left alone to wander through dark basements, unattended light cords, bugs, buttons, strings, grass hoppers, spiders, rabbits, and anything that resembles a plastic cap! Life is just too risky when it comes to Chipley.

After everyone recovered, we sat down on the dock and basked in the sunlight and talked about how the trees are already shifting in color. Fall is on the way. It was a good distraction from what had just taken place.

These two (Cocoa Joy and Chip) had to go for their Sunday afternoon walk alone—meaning without Michael and Raphael. Last week we had tons of fun with Mary Erna and her dogs. But this week, we headed out on our own and ended up at Anna Ruby Falls. This is a really cool short hike that we did earlier in the spring. It’s close so we can do it easily on a Sunday afternoon. These are two really good Dog School 101 dogs. Sit, stay, and watch—well sort of. Chipley is watching another dog as it goes down the pathway.

Anna Ruby Falls is really spectacular. It lies in the heart of the Chattahoochee National Forest and is about an hour and a half north of Atlanta. The quiet coolness of the area is broken only by the thundering rush of water flowing over the rugged cliff face. The Falls marks the junction of Curtis and York Creeks. Both creeks begin on Tray Mountain and are fed by underground springs, rain, and snow. Curtis Creek drops 153 feet and York Creek 50 feet to form the twin waterfalls known as Anna Ruby Falls. From the falls, Smith Creek tumbles downhill to Unicoi Lake and then to the Chattahoochee River. It’s journey continues south, eventually joining the Appalachicola River in Florida and ending its 550-mile journey in the Gulf of Mexico.

It continues to be just plain hot in northeast Georgia. The other evening I was out in the front yard with Cocoa waiting for the sun to set so we could go for our usual walk. We have come to a point where we walk just before dark—coyotes or no coyotes—because it is cooler. This is when we also meet up with other neighbors who are doing the same thing. And it is when I hear all the tall tales they have to share with me about the wild animals and much more in and around our neighborhood. “I think we have a fox living at the bottom of the hill,” I told Ann and her husband recently. “Oh, really!” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. And so, the stories continue . . . .