This morning Oliver got a case of the happy-dog-zoomies while we were out in the pasture for our morning walk. As he bounced joyfully down the trail he went off course, as Oliver is prone to do, and toppled into a hollow in the long winter straw, going ass-over-teakettle down the slightly sloping bank from the path to the little creek that winds through the pasture and broadens under the old willow tree.
He righted himself, looked at me laughingly, and bounced off again – right, KERPLOP, into the creek.
Fortunately, the creek is not deep. Unfortunately, the point where he went in has steep sides (more like a ditch, where the water comes out of the culvert under the path), and he couldn’t get out. Of course, it didn’t occur to him to bounce a few feet downstream where he could easily wade out. Why? Because I was on the path, and as I’ve written earlier, Oliver’s route is whatever looks to be the shortest distance from him to me.
So....down I clambered, through the dried old straw and green leaves of skunk cabbage, through land still mucky from spring runoff, to rescue him.
Normally, I do the morning chores in old grubbies, and then shower and dress for the day after I’ve walked the dog. With the piggies no longer here, I recently changed the routine – and here I was, dressed to go out, right down to my very-new-so-expensive-you-don’t-want-to-ask German walking shoes.
I really didn’t want to grab this very filthy, very wet dog around the middle and pull him close to me, so I stretched as far as I could and shoved his little hiney until he had all four feet on the bank – unfortunately, the OPPOSITE bank (it’s a narrow creek at this point). Of course, he turned around, saw me, and jumped right back into the water in his attempt to reach me. Ohhhhh Oliver......
So, kicking off my new, somewhat muddy, somewhat damp shoes, and freezing my feet into purpley-blue numbness, I waded in and hauled him out. He bounced his way back to the house as if unexpected swims were an everyday occurrence, and I muttered and mumbled and cursed under my breath as I headed back to the house to shower, change clothes, and warm my poor feet.
But the last laugh is on him. What's on the calendar for today? An appointment with the GROOMER! Ha ha, you’re about to get wet all over again, Oliver!