So, In case y'all think I am Miss Perfect Housewife sitting around all day eating cucumber sandwiches with my well-coiffed friends, this post may shock you! I have 3 stories to relate that transpired during a post holiday family trip to the snow, in which I dare say I came out smelling NOT like roses...
In other words, I may have behaved like a lout.
Situation number 1 came about like this:
My son and I were taking our Malamut to an area where we could let him run free, and frolic in his natural snowy habitat, (our beagle was there too, but she is more of a desert kinda gal), so we pulled up into the snow covered parking lot, and opened the back hatch so we could go around and get the dogs out.
Beagle took this opportunity to jump out and run off down a trail that was being cleared by a guy with a hand operated snow plow thingy (looks like a lawn mower with big blades). I took off chasing her, without even closing any of the car doors and soon lost sight of her. Luckily, my son came up behind me and was able to run after her and catch her.
Now here comes the conundrum! When he caught up with our wayward beagle, he noticed a nice snowplowed trail, perfect for warm weather types like us. But, to get there, we would have to go by the man with the fancy snow mower yet again! (Each time he had to stop and move to the side of the trail so we could pass, and we were on # 3.) Realizing this, I asked him if he would mind if we passed one more time, and he got very impatient with me and pointed to another trail he said would be shorter.
Not wanting to bother him further, we set out on the other trail. After about 50 feet in, we started sinking into the snow up to our waists, our Alaskan Malamut was floundering up ahead, and we were all getting very, very wet. Thinking that the groomed trail was just up ahead, we tried to go another 20 feet, but it soon became impossible to move, and we were all just thrashing about trying to find a place where we could stand up. We ended up crawling, swimming, pushing and pulling our way back to the car. (Beagle turned out to be very well equipped for this type of adventure, as she was light enough to simply trot over the top of the snow pack.)
I was not so happy with the snow plow man at this point, and was soaking wet and freezing so I went back to Mr. Snow Plow and gave him a bit of a tongue lashing.
So, I am wondering, was I justified in doing so?