Sometimes when Sampson chooses our morning walk he heads up the hill. When he does this he usually has only one destination in mind, the woods. Weekday mornings I sadly have to tell him, “Another time buddy” or “That’s our afternoon walk”. Our morning walks really have to be timed so I can be ready for work, so sadly that leaves us little time for the woods at that time of day.
It’s been so hot and humid lately, not to mention all the neighborhood dogs we’ve had to dodge, that I thought Sunday morning would be a good time for a morning walk in the woods.
Typically we stay on the easy to moderate trails, but the dogs love going deep into the woods. We hadn’t been on the harder trails since before Sampson tore his ACL (which was over 18 months ago), I’m not really sure what possessed me, but the dogs headed that way and I followed them.
I’m not saying it was a mistake, but I will say it wasn’t my most enjoyable walk either. Here’s why.
The bugs swarm me like the drunks swarm the all night diner at 2:00 am. I swatted at the bugs so damn many times I looked like a windmill in the middle of a hurricane. If a plane flying overhead could have seen me through the tree cover, they would have staged a rescue.
Delilah has a tendency to ‘cover’ her business when she goes. She does this by using those lethal back feet of hers and kicking whatever she can find over her ‘stuff.’ Apparently Delilah has no depth perception because she will walk twenty feet away and then without warning, let loose with the dirt. No matter how carefully I watch her, she usually catches me at least once. Sunday was no exception. It had rained Saturday night so the leaves and dirt were wet. She got me twice. I’m pretty sure at least once, my cursing at her was heard on the rail trail.
Typically I wear socks when I hike, but it was hot. And humid. So I just threw on my sandals and out we went. Remember how I said the leaves and dirt were wet? Yeah. She got my feet.
I love hobbits, but that doesn’t mean I want my feet to look like they belong to one.
These trails have some steep hills. Heading down I’m constantly saying easy, take it easy because I don’t want to lose my footing and pull a Jill on the hill. God only knows how long I’d lie there if I broke my ‘crown.’
And how pray tell, would I swat those bugs away? And what are the odds the rescue plane would seeing my lying down?
There is still a covering of leaves on the trails as well as pebbles, small rocks and sticks, monitoring your down hill speed is imperative.
Delilah hikes like she’s the lead dog running the Iditarod, it’s worse if Sampson is on leash, because they are competing to see who gets to the smells first.
Did I mention it was hot and humid? Even at 9:30 am, in the shelter of the woods, it was hot and humid. After about 10 minutes of hiking Sampson was lagging.
The trails are narrow and don’t provide the room that walking on the road does. Delilah had my arm as stretched out as it could be and Sampson was between Delilah and me, straggling along. Trying to keep up with Delilah while not kicking or taking out Sampson became an entirely new challenge.
Notice how he’s slightly behind her? It got worse.
Eventually I was so concerned I’d kick him, I had to let him off leash.
Of course, once he was off-leash he had the energy to run ahead.
Come on peeps, keep up.
By the time we hit the field, I was pretty well done. I’d swatted at about 500 bugs, been covered in dirt twice, was dripping sweat in places I didn’t even know COULD sweat, and I’m pretty sure my left arm is longer than my right one from being pulled hither and yon.
Maybe playing neighborhood dodge dog isn’t as bad as I originally thought.
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