Friday, March 31, 2017


I had a small hiking adventure of my own on Tuesday.

Be prepared to laugh at me.

I took Doug the big dog out for our usual morning stroll through a harvested corn field. After we left the house, strolled through the windbreak, crossed the 75 or so yards of empty cow pasture and a small creek, we walked along the west fence line of the corn field until we got to the north fence line, where we turned around and headed home. This gives us about a 1 mile walk.

I headed back toward the house. When I reached the wind break, I turned around and saw Doug running full speed ahead north along the creek, obviously chasing a trail. I yelled for him, but he chose to ignore me. Considering my husband would never forgive me if I let him run off with a pack of coyotes (I never did see what he was tracking, but it might have been a coyote) I had to go get him on the leash.

I headed through the cow pasture, picking my way through the puddles of water and the piles of manure. The farther north I got, the boggier the ground became. At one point, I sank into a puddle up to my ankles. So much for my good Keenes being waterproof! Up ahead, I saw Doug finally stopped and was looking back at me, though he refused to come to me. He was still looking to the north when I finally caught up to him and got him leashed.

Unfortunately, he had decided to stop in the wettest, muddiest area of the pasture. I looked around and thought I could see a way we could pick our way through the puddles back to solid ground. So we set out in a southwesterly direction. It wasn't long before the puddles got deeper and the mud got thicker. Just as I was thinking I might lose my shoes in the muck, my feet stuck fast and I went down face first. Now, I am up to my elbows in water, unable to pull my feet free of the muck.
I was having some very unChristian thoughts at this point.

I couldn't get my feet underneath me in order to stand up and when I tried to pushed myself up with my hands, they just sank deeper into the mud. It took all the strength I could muster to get myself into a standing position. I looked around and saw a pickup on the road, slowing down. It stopped and turned around in our driveway, so I'm wondering if he was taping my muddy struggle with his phone so he could post me and my muddy dog on FB. So far, I haven't seen anything.

We finally reached solid ground. Every stitch of clothing I was wearing was either wet or covered with mud and manure. Doug was only muddy on his legs & belly, but I spitefully made him stay on the porch while I got out of my clothes and showered.

So... when it started to rain on Wednesday and Thursday people were saying, “We sure needed the moisture.” I'm thinking... well you don't want to know what I was thinking!


Jim said...

Oh Janell, you poor thing. I am glad you rescued Doug even though he did mess you over really bad. Couldn't cuss him out because he would run away again. He probably felt sorry for you. Wonder he didn't want to clean you off. I'm glad too, to see that your blog is still working.

Janell said...

Thanks, Jim - I've been out of touch for awhile.