While hiking with Olivia and Bailey in drought-stricken California we finally got a decent sized thunder shower. The trail we hike quickly got muddy and slick, yet we were still several miles from the Jeep. Rain does funny things to my dogs. Water makes Olivia goofy even animated. Unless drinking, Bailey avoids water like the plague.
We were fine until we got to a 4-foot gap in the trail we usually just jump across without much trouble. Olivia and Bailey made it with no fuss. But, when I attempted it, I slipped and face planted on the opposite side. Slipping into the hole isn’t a big deal, it’s only 7 feet deep and I have done it before — when it was dry. The dogs will wait for me while I scramble up to the path.
But this time was different. Just as I was about let go and tell Olivia and Bailey to “wait”, I felt a hard tug on my right arm. My 36 pound SCWT Bailey was pulling on my sleeve with all his might. Olivia seemed content to watch. I dug my old man legs into the mud while Bailey was trying to pull me out.
Was I ever in any danger? Nope. Did Bailey think he was saving me? I’ll never know for sure, but he was really pulling hard. It’s a big contrast from when we adopted him and he was fearful of everything. If this happened last year, I’m sure he would have run away.