This is a slightly rainy evening at LaSalle. It's just a little sprinkle here and there. I'm not really worried about getting wet or anything like that, and of course the dogs are having fun.
Actually, it's starting to rain a little bit harder now, and it's time to turn back, but the dogs won't come back. They're pretending they don't hear me, so we're all going to get rained on.
I had a whole bunch of pictures that I took in Blogger, and for some reason they all disappeared again. That is so frustrating and heartbreaking.
Some of them were pictures of plants and wildflowers, and those will be easy to recapture on the walk back, assuming it doesn't get too dark. They'll be here for a while. But I also got a great picture of two deer grazing in the wetland, and I'll never get that one back again. I also got some pictures of the goose colony and how big their babies have gotten, and I probably won't get those back either. Sadly, this sort of fits a theme of what I was thinking about earlier.
I was going to blow off bringing the dogs to the woods today because I'm really tired. Like, just bone-dragging exhausted tired.
But I'm very aware that the dogs are old. There are a number of trips, or I should say a number of opportunities, that we're going to have to come back here. Nobody knows how many. Nobody knows what that number is, but it's probably getting low enough that I need to pay attention. I don't want to miss any opportunities. They love this place so much, and I know it's the highlight of their week coming out here. That's actually why I'm out here in the rain, because I know it makes them happy. I don't think I would have bothered if it wasn't for them.
I love seeing the dogs run around and romp and play like puppies. They don't have the stamina that they used to, though. They run around for about 60 seconds and then drop back to a slow walk. But Max still loves to jump in the water and swim around, and sometimes Scout will even join him for a couple of minutes.
Today they went in a murky, yucky part of the wetland, and Scout came out covered in black mud up to his belly. I'm going to have to let him get in the car like that, but I'm not mad. Max is sprinkled all over with duckweed from his last swimming excursion, but it's okay. I can wash them up when we get home.
There's no point being mad at the fact they're so dirty because this is exactly what I brought them out here to do: just be dogs.
When I worked in the city, I used to see people who had dogs that were beautifully trained to heel and sit every time the person stopped walking, and wait politely at traffic lights. I'm not going to lie, I would love to have a dog that's trained like that. In fact, all future dogs are going to go to boot camp and learn how to do that before they come home.
But also, those dogs don't get what my dogs get. They're educated, and I'm sure they have nice lives in the city, but except for short little trips to the dog park, they spend all their time on a leash. I would much rather be able to provide a life like this. I wish we could come out here every day.