Three times as far
“Let’s go for a walk” (she says). “It’ll be fun” (she says). “Good for us all” (she says). The dog was probably right. I should have put on the brakes, right there. Not me, though. And now there’s a polite image on social media of the dog and myself, on a leafy trail, looking like we do this sort of thing all the time.
Nothing could be further from the truth. He and I have a pact; if we stay inside, the food and water will be close at hand. In an emergency, we can jump in the car and go retailing. Out in the woods, there’s nothing to eat, or drink. Foliage, in fall colours, doesn’t count. And you don’t drink bog water. Not even in an emergency. We toughed it out; the whole 5.56 km as measured by GPS. The dog is now sleeping…
On the Island, you never really get away from other folks. That snarling motor from a passing ATV carried someone we know. Not an offer to ride, mind you. We looked like we were having fun (oh, how deceiving our fall air). At least my meal (stewing in the oven and waiting to curry my favour) was all ready when we came back from our wandering. By my calculation, I may have walked three times as far as the other human (four dog legs and a leash; do the math).
Will I go again tomorrow? No, I didn’t get hit on the head by a falling tree, although the risk was real. I’m going to get a good night’s sleep (well deserved!) and we can negotiate in the morning. Next time around, snacks and beverages are included.
