Our little adventure

Or: I could have been a boy scout.

Harvey was bright and breezy on our walk, leading the way, so when he carried on past the our usual turning point, I followed. We manoeuvred a few boggy spots and then we came to the biggy. I would have turned back but Harvey had already pottered through. It was me wot got stuck.

After getting brambles in my eyes and up my sleeves, I managed to regain my place on the bank and summoned Harvey to join me. He duly obeyed and sank up to his waist in mud. Help me, mum, he cried. (Yes, you did!)

Fearing naught for my own safety, I leapt in and as the mud made its way over the top of my wellies, I had a vision. Our skeletons being found in fossil fuel in the sometime distant future and archaeologists nodding and saying, Hm, dog and woman of homo less-than-sapiens species, probably early twenty-first century.

I won't be bore you with details; suffice to say, we got out.

Continuing on our homeward journey Harvey made it through another boggy bit but, when faced with a slightly wider boggy bit, sat down and refused to move. This is where my boy scout training came in handy. I gathered sticks and made a pathway over the mud for him. I called him from where he was sitting watching me and showed him the way across. He picked up one of my sticks, took it away and sat down and ate it.

Hm, now cunning was called for. Cunning and camouflage. Up to my wrists in mulch I sincerely hoped I wouldn't come across any poo, be that dog, fox, badger or bear. (Bears cannot run downhill, have I mentioned that before? I think it is an important fact to bear in mind.) I did what I think was a very convincing job in making my pathway look like solid ground and I called Harvs again. I showed him the path, walked across it and called him to follow me which he did - through the mud alongside the path. Dogs! No, Harvey, I do not owe you big time for dragging you into the jungle. If you recall it was you that led the way and me that rescued you. Humph, you can't argue with that, can you?

Home for a nice warm soapy wash in a bucket outside the back door. Suppose I should do the same for Harvey too.

Also home to creepy window-cleaner. Brrr.