Hi there, Traildogs and your people! I am a two-year-old black Miniature Schnauzer named Gertrude Mae Higginbottom, otherwise known as "Trudy the Trail Terrier." But you can just call me Trudy! Right now I'm on a really long walk with my parents, Maud Dillingham and Cesar Becerra. We are hiking the Appalachian Trail from Maine to Georgia.

I was a stray in Taylorsville, Georgia last November when I found my future folks. The two big dogs I was hanging around with waited down by an oak tree while I ran up into a big barn. As soon as Momma saw me she told Daddy, "Don't feed it, don't pet it, and don't play with it." Sure enough, good old Daddy did all three, and when I chased their car down the driveway at the end of the day, I knew Momma would open the door and take me in. Fate was working in my favor because the animal shelter was closed the next day. By the following evening I had a name, a home and some Frontline for my fleas!

Fast-forward to July 4, 2001, when Momma and Daddy started their southbound A.T. hike by climbing Katahdin in Maine's Baxter State Park. I had to go to a kennel nearby for a couple of days because they don't allow dogs in the park. I had a lot of fun, even though I really missed my parents. I do this high-pitched whining thing whenever they leave me behind. Fortunately, that doesn't happen too often!

Anyway, "Uncle Richard" Sassaman picked me up from the kennel and drove me to Abol Bridge Campground to reunite me with my parents. That was the best. We slept in their tent and started hiking the next day. All I have to say about the Hundred Mile Wilderness is: Yuck. Mud, mud and more mud. If you know mini-Schnauzers, you know we are water-phobic. I laugh when the rulebooks say, "Leash your dog around water sources." They must be talking about Labs. I'd rather eat nothing but dry kibble for a week than jump in the water. During the heat wave in August, Momma had to literally pick me up and put me in the lakes and streams to cool me off. So I had some issues to overcome with all that swampy trail. But you should see me now! I will walk right through a puddle or a stream if it's not too deep. Otherwise I get a ride from Momma or Daddy. That also goes for really big rocks, like in the Mahoosuc Notch. They had to carry me about half the time (four hours!) it took us to get through there. Although there was one part where they had to climb over this big boulder, and I just ran right under it! But I can jump just about anything. My favorite vault is up and over a nice big tree that has fallen across the trail!

New Hampshire was just like southern Maine, but even rockier. Lots of giant stone steps. Lots of jumping for me! People just couldn't believe it, even when they saw with their own eyes, that a little Schnauzer was making mincemeat out of the White Mountains. And that’s the funny thing. Momma is so worried about my mere presence irritating people that she will pick me up or put me on my leash around other hikers. But usually they are too surprised to see a dog my size out there to complain about dogs on the trail. Plus, I'm so darn cute that they usually want to pet me! "How's he doing?" they will ask. (They always think I'm a boy.) "Those are pretty short legs for this trail!" "He has to take a lot of steps, doesn't he?" "That dog has come with you all the way from Maine?" "It's a long way to Georgia, you know." And so on and so forth. I guess these folks just don't know about how tough terriers are. We will take on any dog, no matter how big it is, and that goes double for any kind of challenge!

My parents put me in a kennel for 10 days while they hiked the Presidential range. They said they wanted to do work-for-stays in the Appalachian Mountain Club huts, which do not allow dogs. I guess I needed a break after Maine, but I felt really left out. They day they came to pick me up was heaven! We went on to hike the Franconia Range and the Kinsmans, and I kicked butt. I love being above treeline because the trees are shorter than me! Momma bought me a "pet pouch" for the descents because the only thing I really don't like is going down steep rock steps (but then again, who does?). She only had to use it coming down Kinsman Mountain. That was some rough stuff.

Just so you know, Momma takes excellent care of me. She combs me every night (not one tick or flea the whole time, thanks to Revolution and my Preventic collar). She also puts "Bag Balm" (a veterinary salve) on my pads before I go to sleep so my feet don't crack. She feeds me Eukanuba Performance dry dog food mixed with various kinds of wet food. I have actually gained a whole pound since we've been on the trail. She clears the crusties out of my eyes (mini-Schnauzers especially have a problem with weepy eyes) every day. She brushes my teeth with a piece of gauze wrapped around her finger. She carries a little rope toy for me to play with on breaks and in camp. She makes up songs about me as we hike along. And best of all, she and Daddy take turns cuddling me in their sleeping bags! You know a dog is spoiled if she gets to sleep with her people.

My favorite thing about hiking is all the dogs I meet, both on the trail and at hiker hostels. A Chocolate Lab named Bear and I played with a stick for an hour after I had already walked ten miles that day; I hung out with Static, a huge white German Shepherd, at a shelter in Maine for a night. He ate like a horse, and his dad carried all his food for him! Whoa! I couldn't reach high enough to smell his behind, but I followed him around while he peed on the trees, which was really exciting. Doobie the American Eskimo and I raced back and forth across a foot bridge in New Hampshire and promised each other eternal love for about five minutes. I met a Pug and a Bichon Frise in Woodstock, Vermont, which is so dog-friendly that it has "dog bars" (water fountains) on the street and a gallery of life-sized dog sculptures that dogs can go in. It took me a minute to figure out that they weren't real! I had less cordial meetings with a Husky, a Shar Pei, a St. Bernard and a Husky/Shepherd mix. They tell me I'm aggressive, but I really just like to play, and there aren't a lot of dogs who feel like playing after they've hiked 18 miles with a full pack. I don't carry anything and my parents average 8 miles a day. I always have energy to spare at the end of the day.

So that brings us to Vermont. Momma got me a cool blaze orange vest and bandanna to keep me from being a moving target for the hunters. The trail is soft and pleasant, the mountains are not too tall, and the temperatures have been nice and cool. You would think we'd have smooth sailing, but no. First we all were stung by hornets. Then it poured all day and we got soaked, even with umbrellas and rain gear. The grand finale was that I got pancreatitis. I couldn't tell you what I ate that triggered it, but I was on an I.V. at the vet in Manchester Center for a day and a half before I could stop throwing up and finally eat and drink something. The vet said it could have happened anywhere and told my parents that it would be fine for me to keep hiking with them once I recovered. He didn't think I was too small to be out here and neither do I! I'm fit as a fiddle again and in a few days we will be finished with Vermont. I'll be back in touch after each state, so stay tuned!

Happy Hiking, Traildogs!

We've never had a problem sharing a shelter with other hikers, either.