(What the?!? I’m disappointed that you missed out on the pithy and witty post I wrote… here’s an attempt to recreate it)
Getting dumped is a part of life, and I’ve come to terms with the fact that at least once a winter I will get dumped. And hard.
While I know it’s just a fact of life, I wish the dogs would at least slow down a bit when they realized they’ve dumped me. Instead they speed up. They always speed up.
At least this time, they let me save a little face by waiting until we were headed back home. We had a great ride to the shore, we successfully got up that hill to the store and did a little shopping. Then we even got back down it injury and curse-free. (Which is a miracle in itself)
However just moments later, after stopping to adjust the boys’ harnesses so their trip home would be a little more comfortable, they decided it was time to go! I unsuccessfully lunged for the sled as it whipped by me… leaving me prone on the ice with a face full of snow. Little did I know that to these dogs, who I’ve raised from pups, a ‘little more comfortable ‘ meant ‘sans lexa’.