Porcupine play day!
As the title says, my pup Zoey thought she could play with a small porcupine…
In all seriousness, let me take you back to the 4th of July, high up at 8500 feet. The weather was perfect for collecting—sunny and hot in the valley at about 95 degrees, but up in the mountains, it was clear and cool, with a high of 40. Perfect conditions for what I had set out to do. But as always, when you're in the wild, you have to be ready for anything, especially wildlife gathering food for the winter.
After a full day of collecting, I was making my way back to the UTV, carrying a tree on one shoulder and my gear in the other arm. Zoey, as usual, was right by my side. She’s a Vizsla, and her instincts are sharp. She points, alerts, and acts as my early warning system, my wingman in the mountains. More often than not, it’s just the two of us out there, and I trust her completely. She’s detected bears, cougars, skunks, elk, deer, antelope—and today, well… a porcupine.
So, as I’m walking back, my hands full, Zoey suddenly starts barking and pointing. I didn’t think much of it at first, chuckling to myself and telling her to calm down—the porcupine wasn’t going to bother us. But Zoey wasn’t having it. She was getting agitated, barking more and acting like she was ready for a showdown. Normally, when she barks like that, whatever animal it is takes off. Not this porcupine. It just kind of gave her a “whatever, dog” look (channeling Randy Jackson, I swear).
Before I could even react, Zoey darted toward it like a lightning bolt, and then—BOOM! She swatted at the porcupine, trying to bite at the prickly ball of needles. Well, you can guess what happened next. She jumped back with a mouth full of quills and an impressive paw that was double-lined with them, top and bottom—talk about a needle paw sandwich. Somehow, she didn’t cry or whimper, but she did give me that look like, “What the heck, dad?!”
I couldn’t help but laugh through my concern. “Yeah, that sucked, huh?” I said. And without missing a beat, she gave me a tired, “Rrrup… Fo-sho, dad.”
Like any good pet owner, I scooped her up and set her between my legs to start the painful process of removing quills from her face, mouth, and paws. It was a mess, but Zoey didn’t make a sound. No crying, no anger, just pure toughness. I pulled out nearly 200 quills from her face and paws—amazing considering how much pain she must’ve been in.
Once I got her cleaned up, I carried her to the UTV and drove her to town for a vet visit. She was put under to remove the remaining quills and get a thorough checkup. By 2 am, she was all clear and resting. The next morning, she was nearly back to normal, aside from a small limp and the IV spot on her leg. Talk about resilience. Zoey is one tough pup!
Here are some pictures of our wild adventure.
