I Ran Through Cow Poop and It Felt Great
I am normally not that adventurous, I spend my days behind a computer screen putting together words that have a deeper meaning than they seem. Or at least they’re supposed to. The most adventurous thing I do is use a word I’ve never used before. So when adventure and potential danger knock on my door, I am like a deer caught in the headlights.
Running through cow poop.
Calling for a non-existent dog.
Fighting off a very unhappy dog.
This all happened in less than an hour, and you know what? I’m happy it did. I abandoned the computer (which is a hard thing to get me to do normally) and I trudged in the mud up a hill filled with cow excrement. It was a hot day, and when you’re surrounded by a bunch of boys pepped up on Red Bull and Mt. Dew, you’re bound to be talked into about anything. It was a whim of mine, to agree, in hopes of maybe — just maybe — making slightly different memories then the familiar sound of tapping on keys, and the feel of my house slippers. It was a good thing.
In Search of Frogs and Anole Lizards
I’m not sure what the point was. The pond that had been there years before had certainly dried up, and there was no life in that field at all, except for the flies buzzing around the cow manure. I knew there wouldn’t be a pond, and no hopes of finding any frogs, or “spotted anoles” as my brother called them, but a girl had hope. As we walked over to the hill, I thought about the movie Stand By Me, where the boys started their long journey in search of a dead body. Only my goal was frogs and lizards. It was all fun and games at first, the field itself was protected by a rusted fence that was barely keeping itself up. I hoisted myself over the fence, and it creaked and threatened to tumble over on top of me but still, I was in good spirits!
Until I stepped in cow poop. It smelled awful, and my shoes were new. I didn’t want to be a stereotypical girl though, and shout out that it was disgusting and I was so totally done. So I laughed it off and we took off into the field. Dodging shit piles was harder than I thought, and this field was huge. It felt like we had been running forever and we hadn’t even reached the middle of the field. My brother swore there was a pond somewhere in the field, and when I started to doubt him, he welled with excitement to prove me wrong.
I Lost My Fake Dog
“Lydia, where are you Lydia?” was my go-to idea for when we were caught in private property. My fake dog ran into the field, and I am desperate to find her. I didn’t think I’d have to use it but this white truck pulled up onto the dirt road that curved around the field, and an older gentleman stuck his head out of the window. When I saw him, I thought if I stayed still he wouldn’t see me, but I soon realized it wasn’t a T-rex in that vehicle. It was a very pissed off old man. He shouted out to us to get out of his field, to which I replied: “But my dog is in here somewhere, and I have to find her!” He didn’t seem to believe me, that or he didn’t care because he pointed towards the fence we had climbed over and instructed us to get out. My brother decided to ignore him but me, I was pissing my sweatpants. Oh god, this is it. This is when I go to jail for trespassing all because of frogs. Stupid, dumb, slimy frogs. We pretended to leave, but as soon as the guy pulled away, I stood standing in his field, surrounding by cow poop, wondering if I’d go to jail, while the boys continued to search for a pond I knew didn’t exist.
Who would have thought a dog would venture into the field for real, just like my back up plan. Oh, okay. So if the cops come, I’ll say I found my dog, and proceed to leave with this cute Jack Russel. Perfect. Until the dog lunged at us, and at the sight of his/her sharp teeth, it was game over. I ran, ran, ran through cow poop, dodging not so well. My shoes became well accustomed to cow shit. I hopped the fence, and made my way home. Adventure over, and I didn’t even get any frogs! My first thought upon reaching home was, I’m allowed to be here, and that’s a great feeling. But you know what? Running through cow poop was a great feeling. No, I didn’t do anything too dangerous, and it wasn’t too far from home, but it was different from what I normally do, and it was exhilarating.
Moral of The Story?
Step out of your comfort zone, friends. You’ll never make any memories by trudging along in your same-same box. Does this mean I’ll go out more? Probably not. I’ll still be behind the computer screen 70% of the time. It does mean, however, that I’ve made a new memory, and this time, it’s slightly different from tapping keys and soft slippers. I’m okay with that.
Don’t forget to recommend this article so that other people will go out into private property and shout for their fake dog.
