Mud Mania - Part 2

Will and Sil Madison (fraternal twins - actual names...William and Silvia) came trotting across the field and over the hill toward the pond. Following not too far behind, was Mark Gladstone. Just beyond sight but within hearing came Bobby, Ingrid, Nathan, Gary, and Oscar. Known in town, by some, as the Snyder 5. It wasn't their parents intention that their first initials would spell B.I.N.G.O., and stranger still before anyone actually mentioned the fact, when they were all a bit smaller it was the family's favorite song to sing on long trips. I however, personally think that Henry is a much better name than Bingo. But that's just me.

Once the news was out that the storms would miss Gruberville, parents were all but drop kicking their kids out the door to go play. Two weeks of miserable heat and several days in the basement was pushing everyone slightly over the edge. So, for no apparent reason, most of the kids headed for the pond. The BOB showed up with large umbrellas. They'd go out if they had to, but get wet too?!? Forget it! They wouldn't normally go to the pond either, but their extreme nosiness forced them to follow the other kids like a magnet. All BOB members, with exception of Sandy, were wearing older shoes, but each had on their clean white Capri's and a pink blouse . Sandy had the pink pants and white blouse. She felt the need to be different sometimes. This would prove to be the wrong place at the wrong time kind of day for them all to be dressed so nice.

A few kids went swimming. A few more discovered the raft Stephen and Jarred had made, and turned it into an island. Most of the other boys gathered together for a football game. Oh boy, this was gonna be fun. My tail was wagging, my ears were up. Let's go LET'S GO, Let's get this game started. The boys decided on having a half field type game. There would be only one end zone, (teams would just switch when they had the ball) and the end zone was the dock. And in order for you to score points you had to jump off the end. Ker-splash. There were no field goals though. Too many bare tender toes were unable to kick the ball with out breaking something. The game started out as a touch equals tackle game, but as soon my attention was drawn away from eating the rest of Fast Freddie's PB&J sandwich, tackle equaled tackle. They tried to get me on the raft, and even tried to tie me to a tree, but two shoelaces did not a steel chain make. I tackled Gary. I tackled Mark. I even tackled Silvia, who only picked up the ball to toss it back to the boys. Oops. She forgave me though. She had a sweet spot for us labs. Sweet girl that she was, she patted my head and said "Go get 'em boy". And on my last tackle I took down Nathan and Oscar who tried to fake me out. Nathan finished the play with a hole in his shorts, and Oscar got slurped on the nose. The boys, were soaked and muddy head to toe and ear to ear. I think that Jarred would have looked like a statue if all that mud had dried on him. Stephen plugged his left nostril and honked out a chunk of mud from his right. And with out hesitation or any common sense, Sandy curled her little nose and said "That's disgusting". And with out hesitation or any common sense of his own, Jarred plugged his right nostril, tilted his head just right and HONK. A single dime size spot of rich Milk Chocolate colored mud made contact with her pink and white outfit.

The gasp of air that everyone who was looking made could have made Guinness' Book of World Records. There was only a 4 second pause but everything seemed to go in hyper slow motion for that time. Eye's looked left, and right, and down, and back around to the eyes of everyone else, just to see who else had seen what just happened. They all gasped again. I tell you, if there had been just one more gasp, there won't be any more air left. Sandy's eyes went from fear of mud coming at her, to unbelief that it wasn't going to miss her, to looking like here eyes were telling the rest of her body to grind that boy into dust. In the mean time, Jarred and Stephen's eyes went from who are you to call anything disgusting (she packs mud on her face once a week), to take that you snot nosed brat, to looking like their eyes were sending them mixed signals of...Stand your ground - No, Run for your life - No, Get more mud - No, Jump in the pond - No, Run for your life. Any guesses on the choice both of them made simultaneously?!? Yep, easy answer "GET MORE MUD!"

For a mile you could hear the screams and laughter, and the hoots and hollers. Every single kid that had not been playing football now looked as if they had. Mud was flung high and low. Mud splattered every inch of every BOB member without missing a beat. Literally. You could have played any 4/4 tempo song and the mud flinging would have been musically entertaining. Yeah, I know what your thinking. What do dogs know about music? More than you probably know. We may be color blind, but our noses and ears make up for it. Anyway, no need for music today, the entertainment value of mud flinging in all directions was quite enough. Noses, and ears, and pockets, and hair, all packed full of mud. Surprisingly I don't recall any kids running home crying or screaming from mud in the eye, or from mouth full of mud pie. After a little running around, the gentle rain would clean off a spot here or there. So even after the whole lot of them were covered they would still look around for the kid that looked like he or she had the least amount of mud on them and then......SPLAT. The umbrellas that The BOB brought made good force fields, for a little while. But they were no match for a 360 degree assault.

After about an hour of horse play (that's what Mrs. Meyers would call it. But in the mud it was more like pig play.) the kids settled down and started to rinse them selves off in the pond. Long after the last kid stepped out of the pond the water was still a chocolate milk looking mess. But no matter. It would all settle and be back to normal by tomorrow.

The day cooled down, and so did the BOB. For the first time in history they were just one of the kids in town. The rest of the week was much more mild too. Plenty of neglected chores were now being done. Lawn mowers were heard from as early as 6 AM till as late as 10:30 PM. You could smell meals being cooked down every street again, where as on days before everyone was making cold cut sandwiches for lunch and dinner. Electric bills in town would be a bit high this month from all the fan usage. Small price to pay for a good nights sleep though. Thank God we don't live in the desert. I don't think my paws could take the heat and the sand.

After practically two solid days of catch-up chores, Stephen and Jarred sprayed on a bit of bug spray and headed up to the tree house. They thought maybe they would try to stay up all night, but were both so exhausted they were out before Mrs. Crow could say "You two keep it down up there. Good night !" right before she would go to bed. Good Night Gruberville. Good, Cool, Night.

Henry the Dog