After putting him to work for a couple of weeks in the snowy White Mountains (delivering this magazine and hosting sled dog races), we headed south to explore some of what the desert had to offer. His love for the Native culture lured us to the Tonto National Monument to check out the Cliff Dwellings located on Arizona State Route 188, just past Roosevelt Lake. This is an incredible uphill, half-mile hike surrounded by a Sonoran Desert landscape with distant lake views. The cliff dwellings were inhabited at one time by the Salado Culture around 1300 to 1450 CE and the adobe structures — still standing — were homes to these ancient people.

However, on our way south, a coyote ran across the highway in front of us. According to the Navajos and the Apaches (and many other Native tribes), the coyote is an “irresponsible and trouble-making character.” If one should cross your path, you should consider turning back to avoid an impending and unfortunate event. Both my son and I had just learned this after attending the “Winter Storytelling by Apache Elders” event held at the Fort Apache Cultural Center and Museum last month — we should have known.

With two black Labs in tow, we paid the park fee and headed up the trail. We were about two-thirds of the way, when my young pup, Duncan, who is not a desert dog, stopped to smell a teddy bear cholla. Immediately the “jumping cactus” attached to his nose. He yelped, shook his head and the small but spiny and injury-inflicting ball of pins flew into the air and, before we knew it, had attached itself to Jesse’s hand. I turned to look and my son calmly stated….”Well, shoot” (for lack of a better word).

I’m one of those who laughs at pain and it was all I could do to contain myself. It’s not that I didn’t have sympathy for him but it was watching the whole scene play out. My dog had spines sticking out of his nose that made it look like he had whiskers and my son had a ball of pins stuck to his hand and was amazingly relaxed. I would not have stayed that calm. Jesse hiked the rest of the way to the top of the trail to get some tweezers (from Kelsey, an intern) to start the painful removal of the glochids (spines) out of his hand — which isn’t an easy task. The spines are barbed and lock into your skin and he had about a hundred of them to remove. (I had to stay back with the dogs because they aren’t allowed at the top of the trail by the cliff dwellings.) 

When he returned, I asked him if he had removed them and he told me he wanted a picture of it first. That’s when I laughed. In fact, once he had removed the spiny creature and I knew he was good, I laughed — and I laughed every time I told someone the story — and I struggled to finish it every time. So, I want to take this opportunity to apologize to my son — and to my dog Duncan, who got the spines in his nose. He didn’t get as many as Jesse but it wasn’t easy plucking them out (leaving them in could cause infection). Needless to say, he didn’t want to cooperate.

So, this is a warning — like the coyote tried to warn us — stay away from jumping cacti. Keep your dog on the trail and away from any type of cactus but especially the teddy bear cholla…and if a coyote does cross your path, you might want to consider turning around.