No, we don’t have a horse.
But we do have a dog who has an idea that everywhere we are not would be an exciting place to visit.
Last week, Pure Luck and I walked the dogs at Governor Nature Lover Forest Primeval in the middle of City By the Sea. It’s an off-leash area, but it is not completely contained. Earlier in the week, we explored one of the newer paths, in hopes of making this a slightly longer walk and better exercise for me during my coming numerous weeks of dog responsibility. (Which is to say that Pure Luck is indeed far away in Non-Contiguous New England State, where he will be working until mid-November). This path is off the beaten, but if you look closely to the East, you can see it gets fairly near some houses.
Or perhaps I should say that Princess Prettypaws, as she likes to be called, looked closely to the East. She scoped out the scene. When we returned there a few days later, she began running through the woods to our left, parallel to our course, but then veered off sharply.
Pure Luck caught up with her as she sat on the curb of a nearby street, contemplating the porch of the attractive Victorian on the other side.
Do you think she’s trying to tell us something about her preferences in architecture?
So, today Snowman and I decided to keep her on the leash in Governor Nature Lover Forest Primeval. And she was being so good and minding so nicely that when we got back to the other side, to one of the familiar paths, I allowed her off the leash.
Then, with a naughty look over her shoulder at me, she bolted.
Snowman chased her down, and we put her back on the leash.
We proceeded to the green field where dogs romp joyfully, and there we let her off the leash, since it is far from roads and the boundary with a neighboring school is fenced. She began to wrassle with Sam, that good big dog who always minds his mother. And then it happened.
She broke bad.
Off into the woods ran that naughty Molly, with Sam in hot pursuit, and Snowman not far behind. I could hear their varying woofs and roos and cries of "No, Molly, not in the water!! Oh, no! MOM!!!! Call SAM!!!!"
Sam is a good boy. He came right out of the woods and headed straight for me, muddy black paws and all. Meanwhile, I caught glimpses of a dog and her boy running through the trees, back toward the field, where he finally caught her.
Her legs and undercarriage were covered with the blackwater mud.
We leashed them both and walked back to the car. Molly was muddied but unbowed. (At least until we hosed her off, but we will not speak in detail of such indignities.)
Not surprisingly, both dogs ate a good dinner and went right to sleep, happy if a bit damp. And I’m hopeful that Snowman will someday forgive me for asking him to boost Molly into the car.