I had a nice ride to the Missouri River yesterday; I discovered a new path on the Gates place that led right to the bank. It was still cool and lovely, but the mosquitoes are unbelievable down there, both in size and numbers. Also, Blue doesn't like to have to break a path through dense foliage that's higher than his head. I was trying to get through a luxurious stand of Johnsongrass and he put himself into rapid reverse as a protest.
I must say the soybeans are looking good, on the way to the Big Muddy. All this land was under water in the Flood of '93.
Mandy is becoming more vocal, and is already learning to bark when I say, "Speak!" The stall we force her to spend her nights in, the one she so objects to and escapes every chance she gets, is her haven during the daytime. When she's outside and gets tired, that's where she goes to sleep. It reminds me of Otis the drunk, on the old Andy Griffith show, locking himself in the cell and saying, "I'm under arrest." The only reason we force her to spend her nights in Blue's stall is that we don't want her in the house all night, and we're afraid she'd follow other dogs away if we left her running loose outside. Were it not for other dogs coming around, I believe she'd stay here. She shows no tendency of wanting to leave our property; in fact, she won't even follow me all the way to the mailbox.
Two weeks from today, my two granddaughters and I will be going to the State Fair to camp out for three days. This summer is too rapidly disappearing.