Pups, Mud and Resisting Arrest

The pups awoke this morning with a vivid jig in their step somehow knowing it was cool and breezy outside, their favorite kind of day. By the time I got to the living room, they had torn apart a pillow and along with my fur lined luxury tile, there were mounds of fluff from the pillow, a cacophony of mayhem. I knew a muddy day was in our future because that kind of energy cannot be contained. It was clearly a stark, unavoidable necessity for which, fortunately, I had ample time.

On this overcast, breezy day I took the dogs to the water. Usko, who was born a light golden sweet color, was soon striped and smeared with the dark sticky muck of the canal, unrecognizable from the pale yellow in which he arrived.
There is icky and then there is the deep odiferous wallow of the bottom dwelling muck, icky. The ride home would be an all windows down sort of affair.

They galloped through the shallow water with their matchless vigor and delight. Biting and tussling with one another, multitasking as only a pack of puppies can do. The glee of their movements was contagious and invigorating.

Eventually, it came time to disem”bark”. I should learn not to wait until I am done before I pack them up because the energy to pack them up undoes all that went before.
Like exhausted toddlers, they resisted arrest as they went running toward the car home and then passed it in pursuit of their newfound semi truck prey.

But it’s all good, like Steinbeck once said,
“I knew they had made me feel better and surer.” despite of the prospect of the demudifying to come.


Anne/JCIM
5/2024