Look at my big, brave boy.

Ever since our dog, Crowley screwed his courage to the sticking place and crossed a creek the very first time, he’s become a true-blue creek-crossing convert.  He used to be nervous to walk through a ditch after a rain.Now we walk for hours and hours crossing and re-crossing the creek at various points and never cover the same ground twice.  In the years I’ve been going back there I’ve probably walked close to 300 miles, and even now I still stumble upon places that I’ve never been.Last January Crowley and I were having one of those extended constitutionals.  The afternoon was slowly transitioning to evening, and we were just about to cross the creek once more.

As I started down the bank, I walked past a bush, and one of its twigs brushed my face.  I reached up to push some hair back that had fallen into my eye.  It was then I noticed my glasses weren’t on my face.I began to panic but thought that surely if my glasses had fallen off, I would have noticed.  Without my specs, I’m blind as a bat wearing shades in a dimly lit room.  I must have come out without them.  I’m not blind and an amnesiac as well.

Where are my glasses, and how did I get on a bus?

Right?

Then I remembered scrolling through the music on my MP3 player in the front yard.  So, I glanced down at the screen.  If I could read it then I told myself I had left my glasses at home.  If I couldn’t, then I was in deep trouble…

I was in deep trouble.It would be dark within twenty minutes or so; I needed to find them quick.  As dim as chances of finding them were, I could only retrace my steps and hope for the best.  I urged my canine companion to, “Find Mommy’s glasses, boy!”

We were in an area where I didn’t go very often when Crowley saw, heard, or imagined something, and took off at the same time my hold on the 25-foot expandable leash was less than secure.  It flew from my grasp, and the plastic handle bumped along behind my galloping pup.  He was quickly out of sight.So, there I was, in the middle of the rapidly darkening forest, bereft of both dog and sight.  It was shaping up to be a banner day.  I did not want to return home and reveal the depressing situation to Petey.  I briefly, but seriously considered making my home out there among the trees, or possibly taking up work as a troll, and living under a nearby bridge.

But just then I heard the jingle of the tag on Crowley’s collar.  I rounded a shrub and saw him ahead, sitting and calmly watching me.  The leash had gotten caught up, and it and his forward progress had been halted.The handle had gotten caught on a sapling, but just.  One gentle tug from the dog and it and he would have been free.

I reached down to grab it before he took off again, and unbelievably, not three feet away, sitting there as if I had set them down myself, were MY GLASSES.

I was shocked and incredulous.  By all rights I should never have found them in what is approximately 60 square acres of heavy woods, but there they were.This just proves, once again, that my woods are magic, and only good things can happen back there.

But just in case my usual, less than awesome luck shows up and the magic departs, I’m keeping that troll under the bridge thing in my back pocket.Thanks for your time.