Pax’s origin is unclear. The story goes that he was found in a box on the side of a highway in Rockport, Texas. It’s a known fact that he ended up in the dog pound in town.

A kind lady who volunteered there noticed Pax. He seemed to be something special, and, worried about where his disadvantaged start in life might take him, she brought him home. But only temporarily, was the understanding—she already had two dogs and just couldn’t accommodate a third.

During the day Pax was hooked to a dog run in the side yard. It was a nice yard, sandy, with good shade from several big live-oak trees, but Pax was restrained to a small strip of it. At night he was locked, alone, in the back yard tool-shed. During one of those nights a thunderstorm rolled through the neighborhood, causing Pax to leap up on a shelf, crash through a window, and then dig himself into a hole under the shed.

The lady who rescued Pax from the pound happened to live next door to my brother, and when we were visiting there one March she stopped by to tell us about Pax. She couldn’t keep him she said, and wondered if we might want him.

I had had a difficult time several years earlier when my previous dog died, and I swore then that I would not go through such grief again. I did say to myself and others, however, that if a dog found me and indicated desire for a partnership, I might be open to the idea.

When I walked across the yard to meet Pax for the first time he did not seem much interested in getting acquainted. Growling and barking, he moved away to the far end of his run. I moved slowly, took my time, avoided staring at him, spoke softly—and eventually he was willing to take the treat I was offering.

That night Pax stayed with us in the lower level apartment in my brother’s house. He was wary but well behaved, and by morning, on our first real walk together, it was clear to both of us that we were meant for each other.

Pax is a very capable and perceptive fellow. He can hear a thunderstorm approaching an hour before I can. He will sometimes spend minutes analyzing the smell on a single twig. He can find a morsel of food in an acre of field. He can be asleep in the back bedroom but at the door and ready to walk the moment I sit down in the breezeway to put on my shoes. He can be out of sight roaming wide but at my side as soon as I give a whistle.  And he knows what I am thinking as soon as I do, dejectedly flopping down, for example, behind a curtain whenever I decide I have to run an errand that doesn't include him.

Below the photos are two accounts of the time Paxton got lost in the forest of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. The first is a transcript of Sue's highly demanded and often retold grandchild version. The second, farther down, is a version for older kids. 

Freedom and Responsibility—How Pax and I do things.

Here is Pax in action:

When Paxton Got Lost
by Sue (transcript of story often retold grandkids)

One day Bubba and Mimi took Paxton to the big forest for a walk.

Paxton saw a deer.  He started to chase it. 

Bubba and Mimi called, “Paxton, come back!”  But Paxton kept chasing the deer up the hill towards the big trees.

Bubba and Mimi called again.  “Paxton!  Come back!” But as they called, they could see the deer jump into the woods with Paxton right behind him barking and barking.

But pretty soon, Bubba and Mimi couldn’t hear Paxton’s barking any more.  They did not know what had happened to Paxton.  They did not know that Paxton was so far away that he could not hear them calling his name. 

They did not know that Paxton had stopped chasing the deer, but he was so tired from running that he was taking a rest before he came back to find Bubba.

So Bubba and Mimi started to walk through the woods with their hands up to their mouths calling as loud as they could, “PAXTON!!”  But Paxton did not come back.  He was resting.

When other people came walking by, they wanted to help too, so they all started to walk in different places calling,  “PAXTON!”  But Paxton did not come back.

Bubba and Mimi were sad.  It was getting dark.  They had to go home soon.  They knew they would come back in the morning and look for Paxton again, but they were worried because Paxton would have to be in the forest by himself all night.

So Bubba took off his undershirt and tied it to the bottom of a sign post near the main parking lot.  Then Bubba and Mimi had to get in their car and drive home to have dinner and go to bed.

When Paxton got up from his rest, he tried to find Bubba. But it was dark.  And Bubba wasn’t around anymore.

Then Paxton did a silly thing.  He stuck his nose into a little cave, and he met an angry skunk who sprayed Paxton and made him stinky!  

Paxton barked, but Bubba didn’t hear him.

Now Paxton was sad.  He walked and walked until he got back to the entrance of the forest.  He found Bubba’s shirt tied to the post.  The shirt smelled like Bubba! Paxton curled up on top of the shirt and waited for a while, but soon he explored a little bit more and found a safer place to wait.  He knew Bubba would come back and find him.

The next morning, Bubba and Mimi got up very early and jumped into the car and went back to the forest. 

They ran to the Bubba’s t-shirt tied on the pole, and they could tell that something had been clawing and sitting on it!

Once again they started walking through the forest. They put their hands up to their mouths and called, “Paxton. PAXTON!”  Suddenly, they heard another voice calling Paxton’s name.  It was a park ranger.  He was looking for Paxton, too.

The park ranger could tell that Bubba and Mimi were very worried.  He told them to ask the people in the park office cabin if they had seen Pax.

So Bubba and Mimi got in their car and drove around to the office building which, in fact,  wasn't too far away from the t-shirt tied to the pole.

When they pulled into the parking lot, there were no other cars.  The office was closed. 

But…….wait……!   On the steps by the porch, they could see a little lump.  Pretty soon they could see two ears and a furry body starting to stand up.

Bubba jumped out of the car and yelled, “PAXTON!” and started running, and Paxton jumped off of the porch, and started running to Bubba! 

Bubba gave Paxton a big hug, even though he was still really stinky.

Bubba and Mimi and Paxton were all very happy.

WHEN PAXTON GOT LOST

Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore is an area of 110 square miles of steep, densely wooded dunes and deep ravines, that runs for thirty-five miles along the shore of Lake Michigan between Frankfort and Leland. It is home to bears, cougars, coyotes, and lots of other wildlife.

We went for a hike there the day before New Year's eve to the lookout at the top of the high dune at Pyramid Point. It is about a mile from the trailhead up to the top, and Pax had a great time scampering along around us and then cavorting at the edge of the sheer drop to the beach far below.

He seemed to be on good behavior until about two thirds of the way back down the trail when he took off on the scent of a deer. I whistled and shouted after him, but he locked onto the chase, as he does, and we heard his bark of pursuit fade into the hills to the north. 

Since he'd done this quite a few times on Manitoulin and always returned, I wasn't overly concerned, and we continued down to the trailhead, whistling and calling.  But then half an hour came and went and no sign of him. Then an hour. We hiked back up to the top. Then back down. We met other groups hiking in and asked them to look and call. We waited, and then we hiked the trail again. 

Two hours later the last of the hikers departed. The cold drizzle increased, the wind picked up, and the day faded to night. All I could think to do was to take off my t-shirt and tie it to the base of the trailhead signpost. 

"Pax, good buddy, I can't stay here any longer,” I said. “I hope you are not injured or trapped. If you are still alive, use your nose, use your head, be smart, be safe." 

I dragged myself to the car, and we drove off, to the cottage twenty miles away, and it was a miserable, rainy, windy night—full of dread.

At first light we were back at the trailhead. I could see as we drove up that there was no dog waiting. But, as I walked to the signpost I saw that the t-shirt had been matted down and that it was stained with muddy paw prints. We called and whistled, and then hiked the trail again, calling all the while. Then we hiked the steep and snow-drifted logging road that angled off to the north in the direction Pax had gone. 

A ways up the road we were hailed by Park Ranger Patrick who had received our phone call last night and had been walking the ridge-lines since dawn looking for Pax. He had seen nothing and said the melting snow made tracking almost impossible.

Ranger Patrick had made it to that point on the logging road by coming in another park entrance. Eventually Bob, who had driven the long way around also made it through, and we were able to get in the car with him and follow Patrick on logging roads that made a long perimeter run around the area Pax might have gone—a vast area of forest, bogs, lakes, and hills. 

At one point Patrick got out and said, "I can't see anything from the car so I'm going to walk the tree line here and down into the valley. I think your best hope might be to go back to the church youth-camp near the trailhead. I think a couple of caretakers may be staying there. They’re really the only people around when the Preserve is closed, and it would be a logical place for Pax to go."

As Patrick began walking we drove off on the long, slow trip around the outside of the Park to the church camp which was about a quarter mile outside the the Park’s main entrance and the trailhead post where I had left the t-shirt.  It was just about noon when we drove up. The few buildings in the camp were shuttered and the place looked deserted. 

But as we pulled into the driveway of the biggest building Sue said, "there's a dog lying on the porch." And then she said, "It's Pax!"