Grandma was right

Stick to the path, she said. But she didn't have Buster with her this morning. Dragging her off the path. Into the deceptively spring-like woods that concealed floors of ice. Causing me to fall three times (seven, if you count the slips I kept having trying to arise from the last one). I'm thinking of buying stock in Advil. Or at least better shoes. Oh so helpfully, the little bastid (as we say in these parts) barked at me from a safe distance. Good dog.
Labels: Buster, Little Red Riding-Hood


