Feb
2
Slush and Killer Snowblowers
February 2, 2008 |
We got another storm last night, an inch or two of snow followed by rain, freezing rain, and sleet. Today however, was a balmy (for February anyways) 42 degrees, so Supermutt and I headed out for a 4 mile run. A 4 mile slush run. Big ol’ emphasis on slush. I’m not quite sure how such a small amount of snow turned into such copious amounts of slush. There was so much slush there was absolutely no way to avoid it. Slush in the road, slush on the shoulder, slush on the sidewalks, slush, slush, and more slush! There was nothing else to do except to embrace the slush and just start slogging through it. Once we accepted it, it wasn’t too bad. We were however subjected to a bunch of jerks on the road driving by who made no effort at all to slow down or go around us, but did make every effort to speed up, buzz by as close as possible while hitting the deepest piles of slush nearest to us, thus ensuring that not only were our paws and shoes filled with slush, but that we were covered with slush from head to toe. As it turned out, my middle finger received quite a workout today as well. It also turns out, by the way, that slush is very, very cold.
Asi
de from all the slush, there were also thousands of snowblowers in action. If I had to guess, one out of every three driveways we passed had a snowblower valiantly battling the slush. Supermutt, I learned, does not like snowblowers. I only rescued Superutt from the shelter less than a year ago, so I don’t know if he’s ever even seen one before. Despite all the snow we’ve gotten this winter, I guess we’ve never gotten close to a snowblower in action. Supermutt, with his super senses, was very good at spotting the snowblowers well in advance. It would start with a little stronger, steady pull forward on the leash. Then a low long growl intended to scare the snowblower into turning tail and running away. When that would fail, Supermutt would let out a couple of his most intimidating barks. The whole time we’re getting closer and closer. Finally, we would reach the driveway with the sinister snowblower having failed to turn tail and run. Supermutt, with all his super powers would then proceed to melt into my legs like a shy two year old melts into their mother’s legs upon meeting a stranger at the grocery store. For all his huffing and puffing, Supermutt found his kryptonite, the killer snowblower.
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A Restless Supermutt
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