Friday evening I had the brilliant idea to go on an after
dinner walk with our dog, Hunter.
The grass started to get taller on the path, the sun was
setting a bit quicker than anticipated and then, as we hit an unexpected
fork, the Pandora cut out and we were stranded. Then I
heard a rustle in the woods (which I am 110% sure was a giant grizzly
bear!)! Hunter and I picked up the pace (read: full out sprinted) and
ran along what I realized was the back end of the property. I
thought we were close to the end of the woods when I ran into the giant
piece of machinery. I called Brandon frantically, thinking he
would at least have some idea of where I was and be able to direct me towards
civilization... no answer! Hunter was helpfully stopping every 4
feet to pee on each bush (I imagine this was his Hansel and Gretel
version of bread crumbs) so at least they would be able to find our bear-mauled
bodies in the daylight.
After a few more wrong turns, dead ends and my loud cursing of country life
we found our way to the open field by the road. Granted we were on
the entire opposite side of the 100 acre property, but we made it out alive!
We got back to the house and I gave Hunter a quick once over for
ticks and that's when the fun really began! I rushed him into the bath
and spent the next hour of my Friday evening washing a plucking ticks of the
poor dog. I feel like we eradicated the entire tick population of Virginia!
Brandon was able
to get a break from work and call me back... he was a little concerned how I
was able to get lost in our own backyard. Needless to say Sense of
Direction is not a quality I list on resumes.
My bruised ego,
and our ticking-hating dog have decided no more walks without Brandon!
