This is the front of a mountain called Poko-Moonshine. This side is where lots of rock climbers work their magic. When they're up there you can see little spots of bright colors. Maybe they wear colors so co-climbers will know where they are (or maybe just to show off to passers by--no, that's a mean thing to say).
This mountain is between Westport and home, though not near either one. I like the way the trees on top are all leaning in the same direction (duh--guess which way the wind comes from?). There's a firetower on top, one of the few left here. There's also a firetower on a hill outside of our town. The hill is called Palmer Hill, but lots of people here call it Parmer Hill. There were iron ore mines there in the 19th century, and there are still huge, deep holes in the hill. Dangerous and not monitored. You can lean far down into them, but wow would I be afraid to do that. I've never been in a cave but it doesn't appeal to me at all.
A few times we went up Parmer Hill (you can drive most of the way) and climbed the firetower. There's one of the best views around from there, looking toward Whiteface. Go there on a clear sunny day and you'll be happy.
I've never climbed Poko-Moonshine--people say there's a great view from the top, but it's a view of Vermont. Like, why would I want to see Vermont?
Anyway, I drove past here because I took my dog to Westport for dental work. Now, I'm not one of those people who take their dog to the vet all the time, or paints toenails, or puts bows or little coats on them, but the vetress told me she (the dog, not vetress) had bad tartar and needed to have her teeth cleaned or her gums would get infected, her teeth would fall out, she wouldn't be able to eat (as if), the world would stop spinning, and she'd be flung into a black hole. So I took her to the main vet office, an hour from my house, on Fri. morning and picked her up Sat. They knock the critters out to laser away the tartare.
Dog Tess was perky and unaffected by the trauma. One extraction, they said, and a cracked tooth they left alone. I didn't tell them she chews on stones as if they were chewing gum. "Is that right!" I said.
Whie Tess was gone, Chances and I had a very nice visit. The house was peaceful and quiet, without any bouncing around. It made me think that maybe it would be nice to have ONE dog instead of two. I've always had two, one younger than the other, sort of like a spare for when the old dog dies. This pair, though, are half-sisters and adore each other. Well, to be honest, Tess adores her sister, and her sister tolerates her and sometimes plays "run really, really fast" so they look like a team of horses.
I've had pairs before who barely tolerated each other, but I didn't find that out until one of them died and the other perked right up. "Oh, it turns out you never liked Emma--who knew?"
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