Wade it out
- Oscar the Pooch
- 19 hours ago
- 10 min read
Another challenge was waiting for us when we came around the bend. A pool of water the creamy grey of poop juice filled the canyon floor from one wall to the other.
“Oh well,” I said, “I suppose we’ll have to— Hey! Where are you going?”
Mom already had her pants rolled up and was wading away from me through knee-deep water.
“If you don’t come back soon, you’re gonna be sorry!” I shouted.
She kept wading. The puddle caught her pants and started climbing up her legs. With each step, the wet line on Mom’s jeans climbed a little closer to her butt pocket, where the Witch lived. Rather than dissolving in worry when the line got to the Witch’s doorstep, Mom just pulled her out of that pocket and held her high in the air for safety.
“Come and get me, unless you’re too chicken,” she said without turning around.
You’re too chicken-chicken-chicken, taunted the canyon.
I waded in socks-deep just to prove it wasn’t funny anymore. “Don’t make me come over there and get you!”
Mom sloshed onto the bank. “Fine. Stay there. See if I care.”
I had to think quick or else she might wander away without me. I took another cautious step. When she didn’t turn around, I took another. On the next step, the bottom disappeared. I splashed in up to the collar and swam the rest of the way.
“Thank dogness that’s over!” I said, shaking the puddle out of my fur like a shampoo model. But when I looked around for adoring fans, Mom was already gone.
I found her around the next bend studying a wall of boulders clogging the canyon as if she were contemplating a painting in a museum. The bottomest boulder was taller than Mom with a face as steep as the canyon walls it was wedged between. There wasn’t even enough room for an ant to walk around. Smaller boulders were piled on top of it nearly to the top of the canyon, which was deep enough to swallow a house by now.
“Oh no,” I said, perfecting my most disappointed wag. “I guess we’ll have to go back now.” I turned and led by example.
“I’m just planning my route.” Mom was silent for another thoughtful moment. She patted a divot in the stone. “Up-up.”
