Some time later Cheryl rang my mobile from the hotel and I broke the terrible news to her, we were both devastated.  A couple of hours later we met on the Glen Torridon road.

When we arrived back at the hotel, I told Susan, a lady who worked there, and discovered that her husband Ewan was in the local mountain rescue team.  She telephoned him at work, I talked to him directly and explained what had happened, and where it had taken place.  He gave me some advice and passed me on to Peter Crichton who was a search dog handler and a park ranger for Beinn Eighe Nature Reserve.  Peter listened very carefully to my story, stopping me on occasion to get the exact details.  Once I had finished, he said that he and I should go back up the mountain tonight as he felt the dog was still alive.  I was uplifted by his confidence but deep inside felt certain that, as only I had seen the ferocity of Siney’s fall, no animal could have survived.  I agreed, stuffed some food into my rucksack and left for the Nature Reserve Office to meet up with Peter.

Peter was a giant of a man, softly spoken and a devoted dog handler.  He put on his rucksack and we set off in the fading light back up an old pony track to the corrie. It took us a good 90 minutes to get to the spoil hills which overlooked the corrie approximately a couple of miles away.  The plan was to sit here and call the dog repeatedly, leaving on a torch as a focus point.  I hollered into the corrie repeatedly and each time we would sit quietly for a couple of minutes.  We did this for almost 40 minutes; there was no response and no Siney.  It was now ??? and it was icy cold.  In the end Peter called it off and said that we should return tomorrow and have a proper search in the daylight.  He finished off by saying that he was sure that Siney was still alive and that we shouldn’t give up.  A thing that stuck in my mind when I made my way down the hill was the sparks that seemed to be coming off Peter’s heels as he walked in front of me.  I thought I must have been hallucinating with the exhaustion so didn’t mention it to Peter.

We were back to the Nature Reserve office about an hour later to find that the Torridon Mountain Rescue team was holding their committee meeting.  Peter suggested I call in and explain what had happened.  Having told them what had happened and explained the area Siney had fallen, Neil, the Team leader, said he would ring around and see who would be available to help with the search in the morning.  We agreed to meet at the mountain rescue base at 10:00 am next morning.  I drove back to the hotel tired, hungry and feeling a great sense of loss, tomorrow seemed a days away.  As I drove down the Glen Torridon Road the temperature gauge read minus four˚ C.  Despite the luxury of the hotel and the very genuine concern and compassion shown by the staff, neither Cheryl nor I slept a wink.  It seemed an eternity before 10:00 am arrived.

Cheryl and I met up with some members of the team and we set off in a group towards the corrie with a hard frost underfoot and the sun in our eyes.  The team had already deployed four search dogs who had been on the mountain for a couple of hours.  They were approaching the area from the opposite direction to us with a good seven mile walk in over very difficult, heather covered ground.

As the morning continued, the team spread out and took different approaches into the corrie.  Two team members and I were first there.  Due to the bitterly cold night, a hard frost had glazed the rocks with ice.  Chris, who was a local full time deerstalker, looked in detail at the area and had me to explain to him where Siney had fallen.  He asked the other team member and myself to fan out on the scree and walk in the direction of the fall. We spent a lot of time searching the scree but there was no movement or noise.  After some time, Chris came across one of the impact areas where Siney had hit the crag.  He examined the spot closely and suggested that, as there wasn’t much blood, he was sure that the dog was still alive and had moved.  I  was not convinced, surely she could not have survived what I had witnessed the previous day.  We searched for some time and found nothing else; none of the search dogs had picked anything up either.  By this time, several other members of the team had spread themselves around a nearby lochan and were searching there.

After having climbed about half of the height of the scree, we decided that Siney could not be any higher than this and we should therefore search the ground to the left and right, and below this point. Before we did this we had a chat and Chris suggested that I climb right to the top of the scree, over the crag edge and back onto the ridge path.  I should then retrace my steps to the point Siney fell off the ridge and then re-walk the route followed the previous day.  I did not enjoy that climb back up the scree, let alone the crag, on to the ridge.  Everything was frozen and there was very little to hang onto that I confidently felt could hold my weight if I slipped.  When I eventually reached the ridge, I was exhausted; the previous days walking and events were catching up with me.  I dumped my rucksack and rested a while.  The team was still searching but they were well down the scree by now and still nothing had been found.

Blisco was above me milling about on the ridge, sniffing the ground.  I walked over to this point and by chance, I noticed a tiny little spot of blood in the snow, it was only a very faint fleck and had been partially absorbed by the surrounding snow.  I looked around closely and found some more, very faint but defiantly blood.  I stood up and looked at the footprints in the snow going along the ridge, there was only one set of boot prints and dog prints, the boot marks were defiantly mine and the dog prints must have been from the previous day.  Then I saw it, it was a paw print with blood definitely attached to it, and it must have been made by Siney.  I made Blisco lie down as the ridge had more snow on it than the previous day and I did not want another doggy accident.  I very carefully made my way along the ridge to the pinnacle we had climbed over the previous day.

The pinnacle had blood smeared down it and it looked as if Siney had made several attempts to get to the top.  I called out from this point but there was nothing, my mouth was dry.  I was hit by the  realisation that Siney couldn’t be dead and had somehow made her way back onto the ridge to look for me.  She had spent the night out here alone, injured and cold.  I quickly scrambled up the pinnacle, as there was plenty of evidence Siney had been here.  I pulled myself onto of the top of the pinnacle an was totally shocked to see Siney lying right on the top, tucked into a corner of rock.   She was curled up like a Danish pastry, with her head tucked right in on herself, her body sprinkled with a light dusting of snow; she was lying completely still.  I reached out and touched her; she looked barely alive.  Moments later, however, she very slowly lifted her head and the very end of her frosted tail hesitantly started to wag, she was alive!  Without moving anything else, she created a big puddle of wee.  I again reached across and touched her, very carefully.  She struggled to get to her feet, unsteadiness almost causing her to fail in this most simple of tasks.  I grabbed hold of her to stop her moving or falling.  She had quite big cuts on her head and there was definitely damage to her mouth.  I felt along her body but there did not seem to be any serious damage, no big bumps or displacements.  Her tail was going full pelt now and she wanted to free herself from my grip.  She looked very stiff and uncomfortable as I slowly pulled her towards me.  I realised that I was crying, with both guilt and happiness; she wasn’t going anywhere now I had hold of her.  I climbed back down the pinnacle holding her closely to my body, I could sense she was sore and trying to break free.

When I carried her to the broader ridge path and put her down, she was very wobbly on her feet but was certainly happy to see me, I just could not believe that she was alive.  I picked her up and carried her to a frozen puddle, smashing the ice with my boot to get to the water underneath.  She lapped it up and wanted more; she got it.  I dived into my rucksack and found two Mars Bars and some snack size salami. She wolfed them down.  During this feeding frenzy, I had to see if she would respond to anything.  I asked her to speak and she barked frantically for the food; she got it, and a big smile from me.  It seemed that she had not damaged her senses.  While she was struggling with her second Mars Bar and third salami stick, I stood on the edge of the ridge and called below to the team that I had found her and she was alive.   The fact they were cheering confirmed to me that they had the message.   I told them I did not need help and would walk off the mountain as per our plan.  Before setting off, I spent some time comforting Siney and gently stroking her.  She was getting cold and began to shiver, it was time to move on.  Siney did not want to be carried so she walked behind me, not letting the gap between us get any more that a foot.  She was certainly subdued and her tail was tucked right up between the legs.  We had frequent stops while I checked her out but every time I tried to carry her she wouldn’t have it, she wanted to walk.  After an hour we came to a small burn and she almost fell in, she was drinking so much; we must have been there for about five minutes.

As we were moving down the hill, I used my mobile phone to contact Peter at the Kinlochewe field centre and broke the good news to him.  He was delighted and immediately said ‘I told you she would be alive, these dogs are real survivors’.  He said that he would contact Cheryl on his VHF radio and give her the good news.  She was almost off the mountain and totally unaware of the fact that Siney had been found, was alive and by all indication not seriously hurt.  Cheryl just couldn’t believe it.  She, like me, thought it would be impossible for little Siney to survive such a ferocious fall and then spend all night out in subzero temperatures.

On the way down, we came to a steep scree descent and I wondered how she would react.  There was no real danger as it wasn’t that prolonged, however, it was a definite change of angle and roughness underfoot.  Without any prompting from me she followed directly behind and seemed totally unaffected by the steeper ground.

We eventually broke off the path and headed across the glen to meet up with the rest of the team who had come down the other side of the mountain.  Everybody was thrilled to bits to see her and marvelled at how little she seemed to be hurt.  The total walk off the mountain must have taken a good two hours, and Siney was still going strong.  

Although she was injured, sore, tired and probably traumatised, Siney still went into a tail wagging body sway when she met up with Cheryl back at the car park.  We bid the team our, seemingly inadequate, thanks and farewells, loaded both Siney and Blisco into the back of the car and shot off to Conon Bridge where an emergency appointment with the vet had already been made for us.  Within five minutes of setting off, Siney was flat out on her soft sheep patterned bed.  Every now and then we would stop and make her drink some fluids but each time she awoke, she seemed lost and momentarily frightened, then she would settle down again.  I cannot imagine what she must have been dreaming.

Amazingly, after the vet had inspected her, she declared Siney’s injuries as minor and said that we should take her with us rather than leave her in the surgery.   In summary, Siney had lost some of her teeth, received many cuts and bruises all over her body an legs, had a slight swelling on the brain, a few broken nails, cut pads, a very blood shot eye and a very very sore rear end.  We were all amazed that she had got off so lightly.  As a precaution she was given a shot of penicillin and some steroids to help with the swelling and bruising.

We returned to our hotel a very happy couple.  It is so strange to be faced with such a trauma for 48 hours then so unexpectedly have such a change of fortune.  I was surprised that I found it so difficult to snap out of it and get myself back to normal.  It took me couple of days before I could settle down and enjoy Siney’s, and our, good fortune.

So what now?  How has she fared in these last few weeks?  She was slow to recover and very jumpy with certain things, in particular, shadows and people approaching her unexpectedly.  She barked frantically when this happened, something she did not do before her accident.  For quite a few days, she was a little stiff on her feet and somewhat subdued.  She is still suffering slight deafness, which is probably due to the bleed she had in her head.  We have gently phased her back in to search dog training again and I must say she is still full of enthusiasm for it.  As for her ability/nerves on steep ground, I have been deliberately doing a bit of work on this sort of ground and it seems there will be no long-term effect from her fall.  Siney seems to have more confidence in herself than I have in her and I am always behind her to catch and reassure her if she falls back or slips.  Every day we go on this type of ground her ability improves.

Since the event, I have spent many hours thinking about what happened and if it was my fault.  I think of the terrain and ask myself, should a young dog be in such environments?  Under normal 'pet' circumstances, it is not the sort of place you should take them, however, she is not a normal pet.  Ultimately she is working towards becoming a graded Mountain Rescue Search Dog and if successful,  she will be a valued member of a group of 40 rescuers in a very busy Lake District Mountain Rescue Team.  It will be normal for her to work on this type of ground, in terrible weather, and, in most cases, in total darkness.

I appreciate it is all about “walking before running” but I genuinely believe that the terrain wasn’t too hard and I did take the right amount of care.  When on the broader part of the ridge, I felt Siney  was capable and safe (she had demonstrated this on the previous walks we had done that week).  In the places that she was exposed, I made efforts to help her out by holding her or using a sling lead.  It just so happened that one of the ‘safer’ places was where she decided to play with Blisco and this is where I failed her.  I should have stopped her playing and insisted on more serious behaviours while on this type of terrain.  If I had done this I do not think the accident would have occurred.

This incident  has changed my outlook on the whole aspect of training Siney.  As mentioned earlier, this is my second dog.  All dog handlers say it very difficult to train a second dog as many of the tricks and techniques used during the training of the first may not necessarily work on the second.  Every dog, like every person, is different.  In effect, you have to start from the beginning and work out what makes your dog tick.  I was having particular difficulty with this aspect and was getting frustrated with Siney’s lack of progress.  At times I felt that she would not make the grade and that we did not have a well-bonded relationship; she was more bonded to Cheryl who spent time with her through the day.  It is so difficult to describe how I felt when I found her alive on the ridge after that horrendous fall and 24 hours in subzero temperatures.  In great pain, Siney had struggled to make her way back up the crags and get to the last point we were together and wait for me to come and collect her.  The devotion and trust she placed in me was total and demonstrates that she is most certainly committed to me; the only thing lacking was my ability to recognise it.  I no longer get frustrated with Siney’s lack of progress, I get frustrated with my lack of progress.  She knows exactly what to do but I need to work out a way of asking her to do it.

One further thing to clear up is my exhaustion-induced hallucination.  I found out later that the ground over which we were walking consisted of predominantly quartz based rock, in particular, flint.  The act of walking over the loose stones was enough to provide the friction necessary to produce sparks.  I can therefore relax in the knowledge that I am not cracking up after all!

Finally, somebody once gave me a framed list of  ‘Doggy Owner Commandments’.  I happened to come across these recently and there are a couple that stick in my mind that I would like to share with you.

From the dog to the owner:

·                    Make me trust you for you are my whole life

·                    You have your friends and I only have you

·                    Give me time to understand what it is that you want from me

Paul with Siney and Blisco lying

Paul with Siney

Paul A McCracken

Member of the Wasdale Mountain Rescue Team, English Lake District

Member of the Mountain Rescue Search Dog Association, English Lake District

page created 18th February 2004