Doggie field trip

Author's note:  Today's blog will be guest written by Dakota.

I'm so excited that my mom is letting me take a stab at this blogging thing--I've been getting really bored with laying on the couch while she types every night.  I may not have opposable thumbs, but I can hunt and peck with the best of the canines!

Today started out like any other day--jump off the bed, stretch my back, get dressed in my favorite collar (the one with the blue bone-shaped tag on it), and head out for some exercise.  But today my mom cut our morning exercise short, which made me pretty mad at first, but then she invited me to hop in the car instead of her usual routine of telling me that I'm the best (Boy, do I like hearing that!) and to be good, and then leaving me to guard the house from intruders.  Field trip?!  Awesome!  I hopped up on the passenger seat, settling into my usual shotgun position.  I didn't know where we were going, but I hoped it was the place that the dirt on mom's clothes comes from--that tantalizing scent of fresh vegetables, wood chips, and pigs. 

When mom stopped the car, the tantalizing scent was everywhere around me.  I could hardly contain my excitement.  Okay, I didn't contain my excitement.  My tail started doing its thumping thing, I starting whining, and climbed all over mom in the driver's seat.  She put my harness on (too bad!), but I got over it pretty quickly, probably because of that amazing farm smell.  We went for a little walk, then met up with a group of people standing in a circle talking.  Mom let me run free while she joined the circle.  I greeted all the people with sniffs and a few leaps (mom keeps getting mad at me for those leaps--I don't think she understands that I just want to give people a proper face-lick greeting.)  While they talked about something called harvesting, I tried to track down the source of that amazing smell.  As luck would have it, I didn't have to go far.  Just a few feet from the circle, I found it--a set of three round, brown piles.  Even though I had already eaten breakfast, I just couldn't help myself--I ate one.  Mom made a funny face and told me no, and I heard someone else say, "Pig poop! Eww!"  Pig poop?!  My lucky day!  I went back for seconds, and when no one was looking, thirds. 

We headed into the fields after that, and I ran around, soaking up the fresh air laden with so many new smells while mom worked, filling boxes with vegetables.  What a life!  I even met another dog named Porter, but he wasn't too interested in running around with me--he just laid there in the grass and dirt, watching all the people.  How boring.

Mom and the circle people all gathered at one field and did some more talking while I ran around.  The field was really open, with nothing sticking up out of the ground, so it was a great place to stretch my legs out and race.  I heard mom yelling "No!" but it just didn't make sense--I wasn't doing anything wrong--I was just running.  I came back to mom to figure out what I had done wrong, and she put me on my leash.  Bummer.  After that, she kept saying, "Path! Path!" over and over again, and pulling me into a narrow trough.  "Path?"  What's that?  I know sit, and shake, and down, but path?  What was mom asking me to do?  I was so confused, but I wanted to make mom happy, so I kept trying to figure out this new word.  After a lot of short tugs on my leash, I finally realized mom wanted me to walk in the trough, apparently called a path.  I liked the wide, flat areas better, but mom wouldn't let me walk there, muttering something about a bed of seeds and the german nation (or was it germination?). 

All my running was catching up with me, and I decided to lie down and rest for a bit in the tall grass while mom played in the dirt. But then I smelled it--that tantalizing scent again.  I stood up, and turned to find the source, my sniffer in overdrive, when my nose bumped a piece of string and suddenly felt like it was on fire.  An intense buzzing feeling shot from my nose to my paws.  More surprised than hurt, I jumped up and back, leaping in the air, trying to get away from that string as fast as I could.  I learned my lesson right then and there--stay away from the string!

A little while later, one of the ladies from the morning circle came over with a tray of really small plants.  "Morning snack?," I wondered.  No such luck.  These plants weren't for eating--they were for burying.  I was disappointed.  I settled for a drink of water instead.  After another circle with lots of talking, mom wrapped my leash around a pipe and headed into the field to dig holes.  Without me.  How could she leave me behind, especially to go digging?  She knows digging is one of my favorite things to do.  Maybe she just forgot to take me.  I barked, hoping to remind her I was there.  But she didn't come get me--she just kept digging little holes and putting the little plants in them.  I barked again, but she still didn't come.  I know she heard me, because she told me to be quiet, and that got me even more worked up.  I wanted to be next to her, not tied to some piece of metal.  I lunged toward her, and realized that the pipe I was tied to was pretty light and I could drag it behind me.  Excellent!  I started toward mom, pipe trailing behind me, but somebody grabbed me before I could get very far.  Thwarted, I barked some more.  At last, my barks succeeded, and mom came over and stood by me.  "I think it's time for you to go home," she said.  Home? Already?  Sure enough, a few minutes later, Grandma Janice and Grandpa Niel showed up and took me back to guard my house.  I don't remember what happened next, but they tell me I fell asleep in the car.  I guess all that running around caught up with me.

When mom came home tonight, I heard her say something about half-day doggie kindergarten at the farm on Saturdays, so I hope that means I get to go back there soon.  I'll try harder next time to stay on the path and not bark so much.  Anything to get close to that tantalizing smell again!

Dakota