As we neared the end of an hour and a half hike at the lake the other day, Xena was starting to sag. Ozzy, of course, was still in top form. He was circling the poor lumbering Newf, nipping her heels, biting her ears and tugging at her flanks. As we crested the last hill and the Clinch River came into view below, Xena broke into a trot. Ozzy didn’t relent. Then Xena fell into a full stumbling run, heading for the water. She hit it with a mighty splash, leaving the nuisance pup on the shore (he’s afraid of the water and won’t go in). It reminded me in the most hilarious way of a cartoon where someone is being chased by bees and charges into the water to escape. Xena stood out in the chest deep river for several minutes before she finally waded ashore, climbed up into the truck and stuck her head out the window to enjoy the smells and sights on the way home.
Ozzy slept the whole way.