Saturday we took a little drive into the country – even more in the country than where we live. We took Spencer along, and his little drivers got such a workout that he slept the whole way home. He was so excited on the way out – mostly because he had no idea where we were going. He just wanted to go!
We stopped on the way to buy him a new harness, because all he had was the collar with his license and chill-pill (the one that keeps him a respectable distance from the electronic fence), and that doggy is a tugger. He pulls and tugs and sniffs and digs and tries to run, and you know what that means. Yes, choke-doggy-doggy. I didn’t want to listen to him wheeze and wretch from all that exertion. I’d almost SWEAR (if I swore, which I don’t. No – honest – I don’t!) that dog was half cat. Does that make him a Meow-Mix?
He’s curious enough to have lost eight of those borrowed cat-lives, so he’d better be careful. OH . . . hey . . . maybe if I just kinda let him . . . you know . . . . Nah. He’d just lose that last cat-life and probably take a bite out of his doggy-life too, so I’d best keep him reined in, and save his life and the lives of any kitties still living inside him.
So, off we went, the three of us (or four, if you count the kitty-dweller), to Silver Creek Falls. The drive was breathtakingly gorgeous. The air purred and stretched and yawned in the sunshine, and crunched just a little around the edges – an awesome snap-snap when the wind blew. Of course, that could have just been the branches rustling around, trying to get comfortable, but I prefer to think it was the wind singing its autumn glory hallelujah to the LORD song. Gets me right here, every time. I love that sound.
We stopped at the Reservoir, as neither of us had ever visited it. Spencer could not WAIT to get out and run! He has lots of room in the carrier, but he prefers to sit on my lap in the car. His favorite thing, though, is trying to get me to look away while he attempts driving with hubby. His goal is to become the official driver/lapdog/policeman-greeter. Nope, not gonna happen. No matter how many times he tries the “Squirrel!” trick on me, I don’t fall for it. So, yesterday he stayed in his cage in the back seat, whining pitifully most of the way. Guilt trips weren’t on the itinerary. He finally quit trying and nodded off, until we reached our destination.
First thing, after our general exodus from the car, was a chance meeting with two very large, unleashed dogs. One was very quiet, and respectfully greeted Spencer with the usual butt-sniff and nose-touch. The other one, however, was very loud and overly friendly. You know how it is, when someone you’ve only JUST met wants to give you a bear hug instead of a handshake?? Spencer did not want to be hugged, he assured bear-dog. I don’t think he understood Spencer’s standoffishness, and took it personally. Hubby carried Spencer into the restroom, to let him rest. The howling finally stopped when he figured out that (one) he was totally unhurt other than his pride, and (two) all bear-dog wanted was to be buds. The owner was concerned, but assured us that the dog had never bitten anybody in its life. I was not totally convinced, but as there was no blood and guts anywhere in sight, I decided to accept that statement at face value and continue. Unfortunately, I was totally off-guard and got NO pictures of the whole encounter. Oh well.
We walked down to the lake and watched a couple of kids (anybody under 60 is a kid to me) fishing by an old stump on the bank. More people were out on the lake in a fishing boat, looking very content. I guess that’s what fishing does . . . makes contented people. I also got to get all my ducks in a row.
As we walked around, we noticed various types of hoof prints in the soft ground near the water. Some were obviously dogs and deer, but there were a couple I didn’t really recognize. Naturally, I didn’t get pictures of them. But I did get a nice shot of this old log with the high-water marks showing.
Plus, I got pictures of other things. I couldn’t help but think they were left there by those who embrace the entitlement mindset. What? Do I sound sarcastic? Just a little. People who reap the bounty of a beautiful area, and then leave their trash for someone else to clean up, obviously have contempt for others. Sorry to get on my soapbox here – but it just gets under my skin. We had nothing with us to clean up the mess, but that will change in the future, we decided. Usually we have at least a couple of grocery bags in the car to use for trash – but I’d just cleaned the car out that morning. Bummer. We discussed this, and decided we’d probably put some bags and either gloves or one of those trash picker-upper thingies in the car, for the next time we walk the beach or the woods or the Reservoir.
OK, enough ranting and raving. The rest of the walk around the lake was serene and peaceful. Spencer had managed to get out of his new harness once already, quite by accident. He’d been doing his usual exploring, which always entails a certain amount of leash-tangling, usually around our legs. This time, though, it was around a little piece of dried-up stick as he was sniffing everything in his immediate path. When he could no longer move forward, he began to back up. He went one way and the harness disagreed with his decision. It remained steadfast and immovable, wrapped securely around the stick. Hubby disengaged it promptly, after catching the now unfettered Spencer, who suddenly realized his unbound state and was about to make the most of it. The harness got tightened much more securely after that, and doggy and harness were one again.
There were a LOT of chem trails. The sky was laced and interlaced with them. We watched them spread out slowly, covering the deep blue of the sky, and contrasting with the clouds beneath them. I always wonder, when I see those things, what they’re putting in the atmosphere, and for what purpose. Someday I’m going to research that.
On to the Falls! Or so we thought. We stopped at one of the paths and parked, and Spencer was revived enough from the last jaunt to be excited about another walk. But, sadly, the sign strictly forbade four-legged critters and bicycles from taking the path down to the Falls. Glad we didn’t bring the bikes. Oh well, there was another path that went around the woods, and we met PLENTY of little multi-peds on that path. One was quite taken with Spencer, a sweet little white poodle named Princess. They were about the same size, and she was a lady — to which, I might add (quite proudly) that Spencer was a true gentleman; no butt-sniffing of any extended nature, other than what common doggy courtesy demands. We stood and chatted on the path for some time, giving Sir Spencer and Princess White-fur time to exchange pleasantries. Then off to inspect a huge anthill, bigger than any I’ve ever seen, and hope to NEVER see anywhere near this house!! Did I mention how much I hate ants? I can tolerate them in their natural habitat — which, contrary to popular ant opinion, is NOT inside a house. Anyway, I was fascinated by these, but Spencer was not amused. He did a little doggy-dance and retreated immediately. I can’t blame him. They move fast!!!
We just could not seem to get enough of the air and the sunshine and the beauty around us. I walked with a little skip in my step and a song on my lips. Fortunately, it stayed there and didn’t venture any further. Let’s just say, I won’t quit my day job to enter the music business. (Hubby, on the other hand, has been bountifully blessed with a rich baritone, and he uses it for the LORD’S glory every week on our worship team.)
So, that was our day. We ended it with a pig-out at the local smorgy, and then home to kick back and enjoy an old I Love Lucy DVD before saying a fond farewell to the 29th of September.
Spencer was down for the count, reliving his day in his dreams. How was YOUR day??