I love that the daylight hours are getting noticeably longer. Tonight, after putting the barnguys to bed, I realized there was still enough daylight to take a couple of dogs for a run in the lower meadow.
I'm a bit paranoid when it comes to taking a large number of SAINTS dogs en masse for a run without another human to accompany me. I'm always afraid I'll forget one or two down in the meadow, or that just as I steer one back to the gate, two others will head off in another direction. I liken it to herding cats. The ones that are blind can't see where you are, the ones that are deaf don't hear you when you call, and the rest of them, in typical dog or child or spouse fashion, have very selective hearing. So I only ever take two or three dogs at one time.
I rounded up Dexter and Trevor, two who usually stick pretty close to me, and with my own dog Charley headed to the meadow. But as I passed by the big dogs' outdoor area, Bill and Tyra were already at the gate looking oh-so-happy in their anticipation of a run. And so, softie that I am, I added them to the pack.
What I didn't realize until I was down in the trees and mud and water, is that all the dogs are black, except Dex who is chocolate brown. And black dogs at dusk are VERY hard to spot. Dex was wearing his bright red coat and so stood out clearly, but I felt like that girl in The Exorcist as my head spun in circles trying to keep track of four spectre-like shadows fading in and out of the trees and shrubs and thick dark mud.
Fortunately, all of them decided to be on their best behaviour and each time I whistled or called, they paused just long enough to make it look like coming to me was their own idea. Eventually they all happily plodded back to the house.
I think I'm gonna enjoy these evening runs. But I just might be in the market for some reflective jackets, large canine size.