Fun and Frolic on Meserve Preserve

A remnant of autumn was hiding in a field north of us yesterday. 

With help from a few momentary blasts of late-afternoon sunshine, my camera caught this scene.

Actually, the sun rays hung around long enough for me to capture a few more pleasant scenes.

As predicted in yesterday's post, when I made the annual call to Geneva asking permission for us to walk in their field and woods, she mentioned cows and their droppings.

I told her I'd already noted that she might just say something about cow pies.

Well, Geneva's annual reminder was not at all necessary after I carefully climbed over the fence between us and Meserve's farm (hoping that Stan had turned off the electricity).

No dogs yelped so I assume he did.

Once I stepped into the field, a wide assortment of various-sized vintage pies greeted me.  

So, I kept a close eye to the ground while sorting out a safe pathway through the bovine land mines. 

Earlier, while talking to Geneva on the phone,  a vivid childhood image popped into my mind.

Yes, in my youth,  I did experience fresh, green, soupy cow dung between the toes.

Those were the barefoot days, though, and one could stick one's foot into the stock tank upon returning from the pasture. 

I'm not so sure the horses or cows loved the added flavoring to their water supply, but at least my feet were relatively clean by the time I reached the house. 

It's not so easy to wash manure from tennis shoes, so I took great care yesterday to avoid stepping in the wrong place.

As usual, I mentioned to Geneva that their field provided the doggies a grand place to race around and enjoy themselves.

Nobody had to tell the dogs.

I'll admit they were a bit slow in getting started shooting from their self-appointed starting blocks, and those cow pies were the culprit.

Not what you think, though.  

Doggies don't mind getting dirty, as they did a great job of that while racing with reckless abandon through what little water is left in Meserve's pond.  

Gooey gray globs of clay hung from those busy white leg feathers on the way back to the Lovestead.

No.  Dirty feet did not slow dogs down.

Tasty cow poop did.

All I could think of as I watched Todd dig in was how bad his breath was gonna smell when he went home with his parents to Snowgoose last night.

Cuz he sure did love those bites of half-frozen crusty green pie.

Eventually, I was able to lure Todd away from his cowinary delight.  

And, somehow the hundred or other pies in his cow pasture raceway did not appear so tantalizing as that first helping. 

We had a great time on our first walk/run/splash through the Meserve Preserve.

I so appreciate our neighbors' generosity of allowing the ol' gal next door and her dog herd to keep the pasture in great use through the winter months.

Thanks, Stan and Geneva.  You're the best!