Oregon Trail - A Dog's Story - by Ca80!

Crossing The Dalles September 26th, 1843-

Trying to keep my body above the water's edge, my little gray paws paddled the cold black water. I heard Jenna screaming my name. I caught a quick glimpse of her. Her dirt colored hair stuck to her face like caked mud. Her brown chocolate eyes spilled teardrops. In the storm, it was hard to tell if she was crying, or if her face with wet with streaks of raindrops. I tried to bark for her for her but my weak voice wasn't loud enough. My small, filthy legs were getting pulled down into the oozing, gooey water of the Dalles.

Suddenly, I could see Jenna no more. The water pulled me beneath its icy surface. I closed my eyes and kept trying to paddle to Jenna. I wanted to feel her warm body close to mine and to know that everything would be OK. I wanted hear her call my name with her voice of the sound of sweet birds. I wanted to see her smile. I wanted to run next to her fast, fast, fast, while we chased jackrabbits and grouse through the warm prairie grass. I wanted Jenna. I was Jenna's dog. Not Ma's or Pa's, Jenna's. Nothing would ever change that. Reluctantly, I gave up. I would never see my Jenna again. I knew that Jenna would be heart broken. She might have to go on without me... She would have go on without me.

Leaving My Home-

It was the springtime of 1843. Flowers were blooming around me in all sorts of colors. Pink, red, yellow, green, and white. The sun shone bright and hot on my gray fur. I loved everything about being a dog. But I wasn't just any dog. I was Jenna's; and Jenna was the very best. Jenna was trudging far in front of me. I scurried to catch up with her as we walked along the Oregon Trail.

Many months I had stayed awake deep into the night resting on Jenna’s lap with only the candle light to keep us warm in the cold of the winter night. We listened to what Ma and Pa discussed.
"A remarkable journey," Pa had said. "These brave people have decided to go ahead of us and try to make our life better. Please allow our family to go. We will not leave without you. The girls and Ned will love Oregon. If we stay here our family will be all alone, abandoned here with no friends!" he would finally yell angrily.
Ma would refuse him again and again. "I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave my home, my farm, my friends, and my life. I am fine being the only family left here. Honey, this is my life, and I don't know if I can leave it," she would whimper.
"Think about the rest of us. We all want to go. Honey please...," Dad begged. Then, they would stop the conversation and go to sleep. Night after night this would happen. Pa had planned to leave today. They had had their talk last night and then surprisingly, had another one this morning. Before the talk, Pa woke Ma and held out a small gift.
Many hours later, we left the town, all seven of us together. Pa had bought Ma a golden necklace to persuade her to go. The golden necklace was very expensive and Ma put it around her neck immediately. When Pa gave it to her, her eyes filled with tears.
"Thank you. I will never let it leave me ever!" she cried. Ma and Pa sat together on top of the wagon bench. Pa drove the horses and Ma worked on her quilt.
I scurried along the worn path after the wagon. This may sound easy for a dog, but my legs got tired quickly and the wagon moved fast compared to my slow-as-a-snail speed. I felt bad when Jenna would pick me up and carry me for a while because I was walking so slowly. But, Jenna didn't seem to mind. Jenna walked beside me, and every once in a while, we would run off the path a little bit and chase the plump grouse and jack rabbits. We wouldn't let ourselves go too far, or else we would lose the wagon and be stuck out here forever. The warm prairie grass tickled our legs and then we ran back on the path to catch up with the wagon.
Five weeks went by and we had passed Fort Laramie, Chimney, and Courthouse Rock. I loved Chimney Rock. It was tall and beautiful. Jenna along with many others wrote about it in their journals. She described it as looking like a haystack with a pole running through it. I thought it was just a rock and couldn't understand the haystack part; however, I never helped Pa in the fields since I was not a work dog like all of the others. I loved being the only non-work dog in all of Independence because everyone loved me.

Independence Rock July 4th, 1843-

This morning I got to help Jenna with her chores. We milked the cow, got water from the near by stream, helped cook breakfast, washed dishes, collected buffalo chips, shook out blankets, hung beef to dry, and collected wood for tonight’s fire. Even though I was a dog, Jenna had done this before so she was fast and I grew tired quickly. We had to get a lot of supplies for tonight as it was the 4th of July, and we were having a party. Ma and the others made lunch, and Pa and the other men went out on a buffalo hunt. There hadn't been many places with buffalo so they went out today in hopes of a big kill. The pioneers before us had said that Independence Rock was home to many buffalo. We had begun to come low on meat. Ma had started to worry so Pa went out to hunt with all of the other men.

After chores, Jenna changed into her new dress that Pa had got her in Missouri. The cloth was soft and navy blue. Small red flowers were sewn into the top of it and white stems grew them up to the top. And then we went to the party. After the party, we all grew tired and fell fast asleep under the stars cozy in the blankets that Ma had wrapped in oilskin. When she wrapped them, we all had thought that was a stupid idea because it had been hot all week. At midnight we realized what a good idea it was as rain came streaming down. Jenna had snuggled me up in her blanket. I loved hearing the beat…beat...beat... of rain on the blanket above us. It reminded me of our old home in Independence. When the rain would fall, we would run out to the barn and play. The rain was especially loud in the barn. It echoed through the large room, and Jenna and I would hide in the tall haystacks and play. Silently, I fell asleep that night thinking about the memories of the old barn lying on the hillside of Missouri.

Soda Springs 1843-

There it was, Soda Springs. The third to last landmark on our way to Oregon City. Soda Springs was a place with many small pools of carbonated water. Jenna and I skipped to the small spring and drank some of the water. The bubbling pool of water Jenna chose was small and only big enough for a girl and her dog. The land around it was mucky and my paws turned brown. There was no grass or even weeds to wipe my paws off. Jenna picked me up and gently washed my paws off in the water. Soon, they became gray again. Then, as we started to walk back to the wagon, my tummy experienced a sick feeling. Too much bubbling carbonated water for me.

Traveling Some More-

"Ma, I don't feel good," Nellie said as we walked next to the wagon. Ma gave her a nod and Nellie jumped into the back of the wagon. I figured that she drank too much water from Soda Springs, but then I began to realize that it was more than that. She didn't look good; her face was pale. She was coughing. Sweat was dripping down her face, and goose bumps were creeping up her arm. It made me feel sick just looking at her. Jenna stood and waited for me, and I still thought of poor Nellie as Jenna swooped me up from the dirt and carried me. Being a dog was harder than I thought. I was tired but I was also excited to get to Fort Hall tonight.

Fort Hall was located along the Snake River, and most of the fur traders had stopped there to trade with the Indians that had moved near. I couldn't believe that some pioneers before us had abandoned their wagons and animals. They had continued on to Oregon without all their had possessions. Pa had told Jenna that there was a lot of trading there. Pioneers who had left their wagons also had left the things inside them. The pioneers who got there next could either take some of the (?). Ma and Pa had been in the wagon ever since we got here in Fort Hall with Nellie. Pa would come out every now and then to check on us. Then, he would rush back up to the wagon. Nellie had ridden in the wagon all day and quickly fell asleep after she got in the wagon. They said she got malaria. I felt that everything would be OK tomorrow. Ma and Pa returned to the campfire and sat on a spot on the log across from us. Everyone came to them.

"How is Nellie?"

"Is she OK?"

"Will she ride in the wagon tomorrow?" A tear rolled down Ma's cheek and I finally realized what had happened. I looked out to the wagon sitting in the dark. A night breeze curled up my back and the candle had gone out.

The next day we buried Nellie in Fort Hall. Our family was so sad that everyone but Pa rode in the wagon. Even I got to! Inside the prairie schooner there were so many things! I was amazed that the wagon had not cracked yet with all of it. I tried to be happy and cheer everyone up, but it was a gloomy day on the prairie, and probably tomorrow too and the next day and the next. It was going to be a gloomy trip for the next little while.

The Dalles 1843:

Weeks went by and then months. We had finally got to The Dalles River. We'd heard so many stories of this landmark. We knew that this was the river we would have to cross. After this crossing, all we had left was to to go up a little hill, and down to arrive at our destination. I couldn't believe that we had come over 2,000 miles and we were almost there! The day was warm and the sky was blue. We had to wait in a line with hundreds of other people. Our wagons had been sailed across the to the other side and once we got off, we would get them. There was only one boat to ferry people, and only eleven of us could fit on it at one time. The fur traders named it Dalles. Pa had said it was the French word for gutter. I had no idea how he knew French, but evidently he did.
Many minutes went by and finally, it was our turn to get on. It was crowded on the ship and so I decided to curl up and nap for a moment on top of a barrel of sugar. When I woke up, the sky was black and cold winds blew on me. Rain pounded down. Waves crashed against the small raft. We rocked back and forth. People would run around trying to stay on. Jenna was holding tight to Pa. I ran over to her. Just as I saw her hand reach out to me, I slid off the raft!
"Nickel! My dog! Someone help him! Nickel!" Jenna cried. I was trying to keep my body above the water's edge, my little gray paws paddled the cold black water. I heard Jenna screaming my name. I caught a quick glimpse of her. Her dirt colored hair stuck to her face like caked mud. Her brown eyes spilled teardrops. In the storm, it was hard to tell if she was crying, or if her face with wet with streaks of raindrops. I tried to bark for her for her but my weak voice wasn't loud enough. My small, filthy legs were getting pulled down into the oozing, gooey water of the Dalles. Suddenly, I could not see Jenna anymore. The water pulled me beneath its icy surface. I closed my eyes and kept trying to paddle to Jenna. I wanted to feel her warm body close to mine and to know that everything would be OK. I wanted hear her call my name with her voice of the sound of sweet birds. I wanted to see her smile. I wanted to run next to her fast, fast, fast, while we chased jackrabbits and grouse through the warm prairie grass. I wanted Jenna. I was Jenna's dog. Not Ma's or Pa's, Jenna's. Nothing would ever change that. Reluctantly, I gave up. I would never see my Jenna again. I knew that Jenna would be heart broken. I knew that Jenna would be heart broken. I hoped that she knew I loved her and that I wanted her to go on. For me. She might have to go on without me... She would have go on without me.

By ~ Caitlin