A very hard day for us both

Well this post is difficult to write. I actually thought I was gonna lose Kiwi yesterday. Decided to go on relatively short but difficult hike. The hike to Mildred Lakes is about 8-9 miles with plenty of elevation change. (see first pic below) The morning was overcast but not scheduled for rain. Thankfully it did not rain on the hike.

The Mildred Lakes trail has no signs along the road leading to it and even has no signs at the trail head. You must want to hike this trail, it is definitely not to be experienced on a whim.
I get loaded up, taking extra layers as it is Fall and necessary to be prepared as much as possible. Kiwi is just in her harness. We strike out and hit the trail. Definitely not a picture perfect day, but still nice and cool with no others to share this secluded trail.The strenous climb on an angler's trail to picturesque Mildred Lakes is even tougher because you must do it twice, with descents of several hundred feet between climbs, fording two streams. The vidoes show it better than the pictures, but the trail was steep and difficult. Sure, walking it involved hopping from one slippery root to another, but the climb up to a rocky ridge crest didn't seem all that tough and I was certain the lakes couldn't be far away.
Several times Kiwi and I lost the trail. Plain and simple. No street signs to help us out. Boulders, logs, and roots made up the path. At about 2 miles, after cresting a ridge at 3,200 feet where the root-hopping switched to boulder-hopping, the stupid trail began to descend. Rather steeply, it seemed to me. It dropped about 250 feet in the next half mile, emerging onto forested flats where a stream blocked our path at ~2.5 miles.
On the other side, we encountered one of those spots in the trail where you begin to question the sanity of trail planners. You take one look at the steep gully and the log that crosses it and wonder: "They want me to cross that? They don't have all their boot laces tied." Instead, we clambered down the steep hillside and up the other side to regain the trail, such as it was. Continue climbing steeply around the rocks and roots in dense forest about 500 feet to a second heathered ridge crest at ~3950 feet and ~3.5 miles. Aspirin was taken at this point as my knee started to voice its disapproval of the trail.


From here, the trail drops a hundred feet or so, to the first Mildred Lake, a small pond. Hikers gazing across the lakes to the Sawtooth Range above will soon see the reason the trail came to be: rainbow trout splash hungrily in all the lakes and share one lake with cut-throat trout.
At more than thirty-six acres, the largest Mildred Lake is one of the biggest subalpine lakes in the Olympics.


That was the first half of the hike, the return trip turned out to be hell. After leaving the main lake and cresting the ridge (Pic above with Kiwi on rock) again, we started the steep descent. At the top Kiwi and I encountered a couple coming up, loaded for an overnight stay. My hats off to both of them. They were looking rather worn, but at least they had planned ahead for an overnighter.

So I was discussing the trail and where to stay on it, when we noticed we had disturbed a bee's or small wasp or hornets nest. I swatted a few away, no biggie, and then noticed several were on Kiwi. She didn't bark or snap at them, I think her first encounter. Well I ended up brushing them off of her. Meanwhile the other gentlemen was stung on his shoulder and I received one on the right hand and several above my left knee. So we parted company and quickly left the area.

After a few minutes I looked down at Kiwi and noticed she was really droopy and listless. I also noticed another insect in her fur. I started to fear that she had been biten several times and was having a reaction. I quickly removed her harness and collar and did a thorough search, checking ears, leg-pits? and removing one or two more bees. By this time, Kiwi was like a dishrag, completely limp. Her eyes were open, but I was worried.

She could not move and it took awhile, but I rearrange my backpack and put Kiwi inside. As tired and sore as I already was, her 40 extra pounds was tough to take. And we were on the most difficult part of the trail. Walk 5 minutes rest, take baby steps, favor the knee, all of it very painful. (knee pain due to 21 seasons of soccer, 25 years of raquetball and working on the steel decks on submarines, I'm just glad I can hike) Kiwi's head would roll from side to side as I carried her like a sack of potatoes. Frequently I would stop and check on her. Her ears remained in the "up" position, the eyes were open and I could here her shallow, irregular breathing. But absolutely no movement from Kiwi. I was thinking the worst.

Not looking for sympathy or embellishing the truth, but that was the most physically difficult thing I have yet to experience. Re-navigating the steep gullys, grabbing every root and branch available to help, cutting my hands several times, negotiating areas of boulders, re-crossing the 2 or 3 foot-logs, all with Kiwi on my back. Frequently I had to stop, sweat pouring off, legs begging for me not to continue. Yet I was at least 2-3 hours from any type of assistance and only me to do what I could for Kiwi, Several times I offered her water, but she didn't even recognize it. She was just there, in the backpack, not moving. My eyes would moist up when I thought what would happen if I couldn't keep going. That would put me back on my feet and I 'd painfully start trudging along again.

After about two hours I couldn't take it any more. My legs were becoming like lead, I was stumbling frequently, even though they were little six inch steps. I had to take the pack off and get some decent rest, maybe 15-30 minutes worth. So I did, carefully laying Kiwi on her side. When she was on the ground, she started to move! She moved her front legs. I then opened up the back and helped her out. To my astonishment, she stood up and gave herself a good doggy shake. Oh she was still affected. Her ears were at half-mast, she was moving very deliberately, but her breathing was not shallow and there was life in her eyes again. I was so relieved, I can't state that enough. I was in tears, both at her revival and at my physical condition. I took 5 mintues and restarted with Kiwi under her own power.

Several more times I had to stop. I was beaten and needed to catch my breath and rest my legs. Kiwi stayed very close to me the rest of the trip. It was still a tough trail to finish but we did. 7.5 hours on that trail. A personal record for slowness. I was so glad to get back to the trail head and see the car. Thankfully Kiwi was able to eat her dinner and finish the last of the water. Didn't clean up, just threw the gear in the car, buckled my precious Kiwi in, and headed back to civilization.


So here we are, me recovering with a rum & coke and thankfully Kiwi in much better spirits, like yesterday was history. When we arrived home, I opened my copy of The Dog Repair Book, a very highly recommended book on dog care written by a vetenarian. It is no longer in print, costing me 60 bucks, but Amazon has it listed used for $8. Get it if you can, it is a must. Anywho, I dove into the insect and sting sections to see what happened and what I might be able to do.

In a nutshell, bee/hornet/wasp stings cause localized swelling and severe pain. Kiwi uttered not one sound or wimper, typical ACD? "If the dog is stung severely around the face and neck, there may be enough swelling to brevent breathing. This is, of course, a real emergency. Anaphylactic shock may occur. For a few stings with minimal reaction, the remedy is Benadryl. What happens in anaphylactic shock? The problem usually occurs within a few minutes to 4-5 hours after the offending material has been injected. (A-shock normally follows a reaction to an injection) Signs of A-shock include pale, cool mucus membranes, increased heart rate, and difficulty breathing. The dog may have sudden, acute, explosive diarrhea and vomitting, both of which may be bloody. Hives may be present or may have generalized swelling as the dog's skin filles with fluid. Collapse and death can follow, usually due to complete failure of the dog's circulatory system." It also states that the first reaction to an injection might be mild but the subsequent injection could bring a full attack of A-shock. Epinephrine is the remedy for A-shock.

So, what happened to Kiwi? Well I think that Kiwi had a reaction to the multiple stings and suffered a minor form of A-shock. I'm basing this on her shallow, irregular breathing and listless form. That is all she exhibited. After a couple of hours the effects wore off. Whew, and I do mean whew. So my concern is if she is stung again, will she get a full attack of A-shock? Or am I off base in my diagnosis? I have nowhere near the education on this topic that I should. I REALLY hope people can share their experience and knowledge with me on what might have occured with Kiwi.

So I will obtain some Benedryl and Epinephrine and add that to my emergency hiking kit. Yes I actually do have a dog emergency kit, but it was not useful during this incident.

It is YouTube that causes the audio mismatch on the video.