So, we were out for a walk, the great big speckled idiot and I, and we saw a lake.
Great, says I, I can rest in the shade of that there tree.
Suddenly, a duck appears on the opposite side of the lake.
Shanty's ears go up, her head snaps up, and she starts whining deep in her throat.
Uh-oh, says I.
Looks like Ducky better fly away fast!
Nope. Ducky starts paddling towards us {like, seriously, what kind of dumb-@ss duck DOES that?!} and Shanty backs up a few steps, then gives a heave, yanks the lead out of my hands and takes off at a lolloping gallop straight at the lakeshore.
When she gets to the edge, which is about half a metre above the waterline, going still full-pace, she crunches down into a ball, then launches herself towards the lake.
Duck: "Dogs can't swim. I'm safe"
Shanty: *singing* "I believe I can fly...."
Yep, she leaped straight into the damned lake.
You know how you see footage of skydivers from above, where their arms and legs are stretched out? That's what she did. Ears and jowls flapping in the wind, mouth open, tail streaming out behind.
And sploosh!
Straight in, over her head.
She resurfaced a second later, blew water out her mouth, then made a beeline for the duck, checking over her shoulder to make sure I wasn't following.
What she hadn't figured on was a owner who was raised on a horse farm, and used to swim in dams that were infested in pinching yabbies, and regulary used to have to rescue foals from the depths of the murky black water.
So with a yell of assorted cursewords and flailing limbs, I launched myself into the lake, got Shanty into a strangehold and started hauling her back to shore.
Halfway there, she decides that it's all every exciting and she's very glad to see me, so she turns around, links her paws around my neck and starts kissing me, with me batting her snout away and yelling "Stop it, you bloody great wuffer! I'll drown you, I swear to god!", which seems to directly translate in her head as "Good girl, Shanty! More! More!"
So I get up and out onto a rock, and begin heaving her out of the lake, first by the collar, then by the chest, then the hind legs {which is very difficult because she now knows she's in trouble, so she keeps trying to get back in the lake} until she's standing on the rock with me, and shakes. IN MY FACE.
Then turns around, and wags her wet tail. IN MY FACE.
So with the force of that blow, I fall backwards off the rock onto a bed of grass clippings, covering my wet clothing in hay.
Shanty of course thinks she's forgiven and that I'm starting a wrestling match, so she launches off the rock onto me.
By the time I get up, I'm sopping wet, covered in hay, my non-waterproof makeup is smeared down my face, I have muddy pawprints on my chest and face and my carefully washed hair is like a blackbird's nest.
I start brushing myself off, which Shanty sees as: "come here!", so she runs at me, tries to stop, loses traction on the wet hay, skids, and crashes into my knees from behind.
Down I go like a sack of bricks, straight into....
the lake.
Shanty: "Gee golly! It must be playtime AGAIN!"
By the time we're out *again*, clean and calmed down *again*, I notice a man standing on the opposite pavement, holding a Jack Russel in his arms, looking like he expects us to lunge at him any second.
He's obviously witnessed the whole thing and thinks we're as mad as hatters.
So, whoever didn't smile while imagining this, you have no sense of humour.
