My parents and I took Parker along the same trail that I usually run in the mornings. We went prepared with Parker’s monkey harnass because his current favorite game is “you can’t catch me,” which isn’t exactly doable with cliffs. While I had anticipated a leisurely walk, Parker decided that he wanted to take off at a run.
I thought that perhaps he would keep it up until we got to the uphill…I was wrong. He ran the whole 1.25 miles to get to the point of the other mountain, stopping only every so often to make sure that my parents were following.
When we got to the end of the trail, a large army green snake crossed the trail right in front of Parker. It was about 5 feet long and the width of my wrist. Without thinking, I pulled back on his harnass as hard as I could and I yanked him clear off of his feet. We turned back to meet my parents where Parker told them about the “big, big snake!” To be honest, I was pretty frightened. I have no clue what kind of snake it was and after the snake attacking my rake incident, I’ve been a little skittish.
My parents wanted to walk beyond the trail so that we could get a picture across from our village and while I obliged (only when my mom started dragging a stick along the ground for noise and my dad picked up a large rock), I was still picturing “Snakes On A Plane” scenes happening.
After our photo op, Parker wanted to run all the way back to the village. He made it about halfway there…
…before he declared that he simply couldn’t go another step. Interestingly, our dog Nona does the same thing. She just has a seat in the shade until she decides that she’s rested and no amount of cajoling can make her go. Luckily, Parker is easier to carry than Nona, so I picked him up and hiked the last half mile holding a 35 lb. child up a steep incline. And then I had a beer. Or two.