Mud

It’s February and rather damp; there seems to be an awful lot of mud around right now.  My relationship with mud is similar to my relationship with IT and bureaucracy: I refuse to allow it to stop me from doing what I want to do.  So I’ve taken to wearing wellies more or less every day.

Since Moss is now adolescent, I know she needs to really run, and I’ve found that the best place for her is our local woods.  As I plod through the woods, I’m surprised by how few people there are about, it’s pretty much empty.  I put it down to the mud.

As I squelch and slide around on my own in the woods and Moss zooms past me, I do feel a bit of a twit.  I find myself wondering how Robin Hood and his merry men dealt with the mud, or perhaps Sherwood Forest is just better drained than our woods.  Strange the thoughts that pop into your head as your struggle manfully onwards for the sake of your dog’s mental health.

Moss is extremely partial to a mud bath.   After she’s had a good run, I’ve noticed she often looks out for water and inevitably mud.  She then throws herself enthusiastically into it and lies there looking content.  I assume she’s using it to cool herself down.  I don’t stop her, because I think it must be rather a good sensation. 

I’m not a washer, I rub Moss down.  This time of year we have quite a collection of muddy towels drying around the house.  Moss absolutely loves being rubbed down, she’s so tiny that she can get quite lost in a bath towel.  In fact, a lovely snuggly rub down makes for a fun finale to our muddy walks.

Have a good weekend.

Moss enjoying a mud bath, I wish I’d captured the next bit, she looks so clean in this shot.