Last Resorts - Almost

We were really reluctant to put booties on Button and Riley. Let's face it, it's a pain in the arse; for them and for us. Hard enough on them, they whine, that we dress them up in winter coats on these frigid days, but boots too? Fact is, we had no choice.

Taking them out into the ravine the last few days, post-too-ample-snowfall, has been a true misery. Simply much too cold for their tiny feet. Evidenced amply by the fact that they freeze up, seemingly incapable of proceeding further, lift their feet in place helplessly, conveying to us the unmistakable signs of hike-incompatibility with the prevailing conditions.

Which cuts our outing short, of necessity. We end up carrying them a while, clearing the accumulated snow and ice out of their pads, then setting them back down again, to lump along in the still-loose and high snow trails. It's hard on us too, since our gait is awkward as a result of the snow still not trodden adequately to a level and packed surface.

These conditions of high, loose snow are perfect for snowshoes. Skis too, for that matter, but snowshoes have always been our preferred choice in these wooded areas. Trouble is, when we're herding two little dogs and never quite know when we'll have to scoop them up, we feel snowshoes become more of a hindrance to our stewardship of their needs than an assistance to our perambulations.

Clambering uphill is even worse, since the quality of the snow is loose and silken, and dreadfully slippery. We're left breathless with the effort. And of course when we have to carry them along as well, it's a prodigious effort that we find exceedingly arduous. What a difference the doggy boots make.

Awkward for them at first, but then they recover themselves, adjust their gait, and gamely go along, feet nice and toasty. We're able to take our time, enjoy our surroundings and make the most of the walk. The trees are still heavy with snow. Every now and again a gust of wind will pick the snow off laden branches and scatter it in a veil of white down below.

Riley, with his short stubby little legs, more or less matching his short stubby little body, befitting a toy poodle, experiences far more difficulty than Button, with her more elegant profile and long slender legs. She is more than capable of prancing along, while he brings up the rear, slowly and with great deliberation. Occasionally slipping, sprawling flat, face down.

Yesterday we were surprised, on turning a corner on a downward spiral of the trail, to come literally face to face with a pileated woodpecker. A mere ten feet from where we stood, at eye level, busy with a tree trunk that we had noted on previous occasions had been well and deeply pocked by its insistent hammering; large raw slivers of the trunk - including heartwood - littering the snow. This woodpecker more resembles a primeval-appearing bird than any other we've seen, with its red-capped hammerhead and peculiar silhouette.

We cannot recall the creek freezing over this early in the season, at any previous time. This is destined to be a winter to remember, just as the winter of the ice storm was. The boots are a godsend, and we're glad we succumbed to their utility. The current boots represent the best design I've yet sewn. They're neat, relatively easy to put on, and for the most part stay on.

I used a medium-to-heavy-weight fleece fabric for the boot itself, sewed a circle of leather on the bottom, and the Velcro fastenings work far better than the laces we used to draw tightly on previous designs. They will occasionally work their way loose on one foot or another, necessitating that we stop, retrieve the wayward boot and re-install it on the now-exposed foot, in the most awkward of conditions.

But they certainly beat exposing their bare paws to the snow and ice.