So the boyfriend and I and Zoey (le chien) went out of town today to a lovely park an hour and a half out of the city.
It was really nice. I’m a big sucker for trees, probably cuz I grew up in the prairies where they were far and few between, and this place was a full fledged forest. Complete with steep cliffs/hills that the boyfriend and the dog decided we should climb down. Ugh. I didn’t have much choice but to follow them, so I began my downhill trek. I slid, I slipped, I swore. Then I had a brilliant idea. I grabbed a nearby stick to put my weight on as I tried to prevent my premature death. It was working marvellously, allowing me to tread with slightly more confidence.
Zoey came bounding up the hill, tongue a-flapping to help me out, as any good dog will do for their beloved owner. She zoomed up towards me (damn her four legs and low centre of gravity) and I had visions of her helping me out, a la Lassie or…..some other helpful dog friend.
However, this is how the scene ACTUALLY played out. She ran around under my feet, prompting me to scream bodily harm at her, and then the bitch BIT MY STICK IN HALF!!! I was trying to balance myself from her attack to the back of knees, while she takes my support out from me. She bit the damn thing in half and ran down the hill with it in her mouth, where the boyfriend was dying of laughter. Oh. Yeah. Hilarrrrrrrrious.
I picked up another stick and no word of a lie, before I could even put it down onto the ground, she was right there, jumped and took it out of my hand. It was like in The Simpsons, when Homer is sitting on the couch and all the puppies keep jumping from random impossible angles and grabbing the pork rinds out of his hand before he can eat his precious, precious fried ‘pork’.
I gave up. I slid and stumbled my way down. We continued on our merry way and eventually came across a really beautiful stream, complete with real live waterfall. I was walking from rock to rock so the boyfriend could take a dazzling ‘location’ pic of me, when stupid dogface Zoey decided to come splashing up to me. She jumped onto me, muddying up my shirt, pants and fleece, and causing me to loose my footing and fall into the pond. FUCKING DOG!!
The best part is that the boyfriend caught this event on camera, in a series of photos. First photo, me walking happily along rocks. Second photo, me walking obliviously among rocks above stream, with dog walking up behind me. Third photo, me turning around all ‘pose-ready’ with dog coming toward me. Fourth photo, dog in full jump mode, me with terrified look on my face. Fifth photo, dog running away from scene of crime, me falling into water with mud all over me.
I always seem to wind up covered in mud during these expeditions. A few years ago, I did a lovely slide and crash on a muddy slope in Algonquin Park. Boyfriend and I found this so hilarious that we used our last picture on the camera (before digital camera days) to take a shot of my muddy ass. Immediately after using up the last shot, we rounded the corner to find the fucking END OF THE RAINBOW!!! Honestly, we walked right to it. Could we take a pic? Have proof that there was no pot of gold? No! We couldn’t! Because I thought my muddy ass was funny. I still have the pic. My ass looks good. It’s before the Second Cup starting making me fat.
I have no good way to end this post. I just thought I’d share it with you. My clothes now stink like wet dog and mud and I’m seriously unimpressed since I’d rather cut off my foot than do laundry. And if that dog thinks I’m helping her get her toy out from under the couch any time soon, she’s got another thing coming! I’m just going to laugh and point. Stupid dog.