Slogging in the Swamp

My dog loves mud. If there is a tiny little puddle of the stuff tucked away in a huge field, not only will she make sure to splash in it, but she will get every one of her four paws thoroughly infused with the muck. She goes out of her way to find even the teeniest bit of wet mud in which to dip all her extremities, and often, will lie down in it so her belly gets covered with the slime.

Of all the mud puddles she has loves, nothing pleases her more than swimming in the swamp. In the summertime, I take her to the beach where the Pacific Ocean beckons. She looks upon it with disinterest and even on the hottest days she is disdainful of all the other dog swimmers. But in the wintertime, when the woods where we walk are wet and swamps and waterways form from all the rain, she couldn’t be happier. On even the coldest days, she jumps into the swamp, water coming up to her neck, a smile forming on her face. She doesn’t even like to swim. She just likes to jump around in the mire. It is murky and muddy and generally pretty yucky. That keeps her very happy. In she goes, tail up high, sniffing all the reeds and wandering about exploring the waterways. Just what she is looking for, I have no idea. I know that two ducks live there at times, but I never let her near them. In fact, we’ve only even seen them once this winter; I make sure they have flown out of the water and are safe high above the wolf dog in the water. I know there are mink and other critters who live in the woods and water, but I don’t think she cares. She just likes walking along, body submerged up to her neck, happy as a clam (how do we know clams are happy?). She dives in too. She likes to go to the deepest place in the swamp and jump. I fret at times that the water level has come up higher than her head, because she does not really swim. But off she goes into the deep end. So far, so good. I am terrified that one day I am going to have to go in after her to rescue her from something or other. And yet, she has been doing it for years, enjoying every slog in the swamp free of any kind of problems. It is a true swamp, reeds floating about, trees growing out of the water, god knows what growing and living under the water. But it’s her swamp and she loves it. In the summer, when there is no wet mud to jump into, she patiently walks down the trail waiting for the winter time, when the water forms once more. Then she gets a spring in her step, tail head high, and at the first opportunity, jumps in.