Now most people, including myself, would scoff at the mere though of the words "epic" and "dog-walking" being used in the same sentence. But after this evening, I believe that changed. It started with a simple jog up to the top of the hill. no big deal. just a little half hour jaunt. I'll take the pooch, get a workout, be home before dark. yea... right.
It began benignly enough, the snow made the trail slower, but the light was still good. I let Eoulus(the dog, whose name is pronounced yo-lus) off the leash seeing no harm in it, because no one was out to bother, and he runs better anyways. By and by we made our way up, and upon reaching the top, i looked at my watch. apparently I'm more out of shape than I thought, the climb took a good fifteen minutes longer than normal, and It was now mostly dark. looking around, I noticed that eoulus was a quarter mile down the ridge, right on the heels of a bunch of deer that were bedded down behind the rocks. After a lot of whistling and yelling, i got him back. At this point I realized, oh shit. its almost completely dark, and I've got a good ways to go down with almost a thousand vertical feet of drop.
Rather than take the trail, which weaves all over, i opted for the most direct route, down. whilst on our way, I began to think of the stories of mountain lions and such. not good. so i picked up a rock the size of a baseball cap and started talking to the cat. "Okey doke big kitty, you don't want to eat us, we're just a couple of scrawny runners, nope we won't taste very good at all." Hmmm... no bueno. but, we made it, safe and cat-attack free. so while it wasn't that exciting and you're probably telling yourself "wow, that was a really bad story" I can tell you that it had potential to be very, very epic.
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