Life with a Lab

 Today it warmed up to above freezing and was even raining off and on since yesterday afternoon. I'd been waiting for it to warm up so I could snowshoe the hill down to the boats and create something of a solid pack in preparation for running a snow machine down there. At this point there way not enough snow to even bother. 

I made the hike using my husband's new/old snowshoes that I'd finally bought binders for. He bought those snowshoes years ago, probably shortly after he got out of the army, or he found them in the Army/Navy store. Whatever it was, it was a long time ago. Last summer I found some military binders for that kind of snowshoe on Amazon and I broke down and bought them. Not long ago I put them together and tested out the lengths by putting one of his boots in one. 

Well, today, this is what I used. The only difference was, I used my shoes rather than wear my boots, because it was plenty warm out there and I didn't want my feet sweating. I didn't even wear socks, though maybe I should have. Those binding were a little loose, but they hung onto my shoes just fine. 

So I went down to the boats and back and didn't take the dog because she makes it her personal goal to stay within a foot of me and I didn't want to face-plant because she insisted on walking on my snowshoes. And when she's not doing that, she's running and even blitzing up and down the trail, trying her level best to brush past me as close as she dares, and if I happen to be off guard, she might bodyslam me - she's managed to knock me down twice since we got her. Telling her no or quit or stop all means to try harder in her brain. Believe me, I've tried my hardest to discourage her doing that, but for the most part, she either doesn't get to go or I carry a big stick.

So anyway, I made the trip, and when I got back, I kicked off the snowshoes and walked up to the awning outside my husband's window and knocked. He got the hint immediately, and he let the dog out. This is a game we play frequently "Find Mommie". Most of the time she will look in all known places I might go, and when that doesn't pan out, she'll use her nose. Honestly, I didn't think she'd even get out of the yard, especially since I knocked into my bear-alert wind chimes and made a racket. She didn't give it a single thought, she just blasted down the trail.

As soon as she was out of sight, I came around and on into the house. I have no idea how far she went, but I suspect she went all the way, or very nearly. Of course, I was now hidden in the house by the time she blasted back. Once here, she looked with her nose and still didn't find me. I was just short of being tackled when she finally found me. My playing hide and seek might be one reason she hangs so close to me all the time, even here in the house.