Caution: Lots of Sharks

The last time I went to the dog park I got rained on.  And not just a little sprinkling, just to feel refreshed.  I mean drenched.  So drenched in fact that my clothes were plastered to my body weighing me down with every step I took.  The water poured into my eyes blinding me and the cold rain gave me a brain-freeze - from the OUTSIDE IN.  

That's just wrong.  

And that has nothing to do with this post.  I just thought I'd let you know the terrible weather I have to endure.  Its all part of being a responsible dog owner, you know.

What really happened the last time I went to the dog park is this: I leisurely strolled along the waters edge while Max bounded to and fro (where ever his little nose led him) and often ran up the paths into the forest.

Eventually he found one path that piqued his interest and he didn't seem to want to return to me.  I got curious, so I dove in after him and ended up on an abandoned path.  We were off, into the unknown.

I followed the old path for a bit, up the riverside and through the trees.  I was hoping to find a nice trail we could walk on.  But the beavers had beaten me to the unknown location.  There were fallen trees everywhere.  My sense of adventure quickly depleted as I surveyed the scene and determined that tree climbing was definitely NOT what I had signed up for.  

So I turned around to head back to the river where everything was wide open and as I was heading back I found this:

And then my crazy imagination abandoned all reason and the path and the forest looked like some drifters hangout and the fallen trees had been cut down not by beavers but by a nefarious individual to fuel his fire for meals - probably of cute dogs from the dog park, or gasp their responsible owners.  And then I thought:  he probably in the forest RIGHT NOW and he probably WATCHING ME THIS SECOND.  And I imagined him standing there just in the shadows of the trees watching me and my discoveries with eyes that ever so slightly bulged out.

So I decided that I was done with adventure and I wanted to go home.  I turned around to follow the nearest path I could find back to the water, and immediately found this:

And decided that what is worse than a nefarious drifter is a nefarious drifter who is also neurotic.  And I was outta there.

The End

Love, 

Becky

PS  I think I'm gonna call this guy an NND.  Can you guess what that stands for?