A few years ago, Ruedi and Diana and I hiked the hill from our back yard through the Corp of Engineer's property to the lake. Upon our return we lost our way and landed not quite a mile at some neighbor's house. It is tricky terrain, and looking at the sun's, stars or moon's position would not have helped us at all. My having no sense of direction whatsoever, it's easy to misplace which way is straight up.

Today, I'm trying to teach our "Killer Dog" to wander down the hill for the lions, tigers and bears and leave the poor Chihuahua alone at the top where our road is. It's not Schatzie that hungers for the Chihuahua; it's this Chihuahua that thinks he can rough and tough it with Schatzie. He wants to take her on, so not a good idea.

In the last five years, I have picked up a fear of traveling downhill vertically. I hug the tree, vines, fighting the temptation of bumping down on my hind side. I felt ashamed, for our native Americans would have scampered down with bare feet. Luckily, I found a rope that someone had attached to a tree trunk a long time ago. Painstakingly, I furthered myself another 50 feet.  Schatzie looked down at me, as she stood of the edge of the vertical drop off , glanced back up to our asphalt driveway toward her little friend and barked, “Adios, Amiga.”
She left me with the lions, tigers and bears.