I decided we would head to an old dog-walking haunt of mine, a path beside Mosquito Creek in North Van. It's a popular spot: the trail is a designated off-leash area, and is off-limits to mountain bikers riding downhill, eliminating one danger factor for the roaming dogs.
And it boasts a couple of signs that indicate the presence of some bureaucrats with a good sense of humour at the District of North Vancouver.
This one is above two garbage cans and a box of bio-degradable poop bags.
And this one is positioned by one of the "swimming holes" in the creek. I suspect our family dog Tessa might be to blame for this one: she used to insist on taking a good 10-15 minutes to swim in it, both on the way up the trail and on the return leg. Which was fine in itself, but she would spend the whole time in the water barking at me to join her. And when I finally turned my back on her and continued on my way, she'd bark even louder for a minute or two before admitting defeat, to emerge from the icy water, chase me down, and shake what felt like 20 gallons of said water all over me. She was a character, that dog.
Anyhoo. Ebby is far more willing to please. She asks before heading down into the creek.
She doesn't stand still long enough for me to get a flash-free sharp shot of her, unfortunately. But she doesn't splash me when she gets out of the water, so I can't complain too much.
Ebby's also good about entertaining herself on a walk. She's good at finding sticks, for example.
Sometimes rather large sticks, in fact.
And she doesn't require me to throw them for her. She just takes off with them. Too quickly for me to get in front of her and take a good photo of how pleased with herself she looks.
And, of course, she's excellent at being just plain cute.
When we got home, Ebby had a nice, long nap while I went to the Terminal City Yarn Wranglers' meet-up. Where I did indeed cast on with some Noro.
More on that tomorrow.