Thursday, August 21, 2008

Bird Street Conservation Area

Yesterday Mom and I had an adventure. It was more of an adventure than we bargained for! However, first we had something to do. They had to give me my flea and tick medication. I don't like getting the Flea Goo.
When I saw them both coming outside with the goo in Dad's hand, I ran to the other side of the yard and refused to come when called.
You can't make me come!
Oh, well, if we're going to play soccer, I'll come back for that.
I love soccer!
My way of soccer playing is kind of special...
I don't dribble. I just take the ball and sit there with it.
Those weasels! They lured me in with the soccer ball and gave me the goo!
If I roll and roll, maybe I can get rid of it.
It's worth a try, anyway.
Not long after this, we went to the Bird Street Conservation Area in Stoughton.
There is a park inside the conservation area dedicated to the memory of "all the deceased veterans of Stoughton." Of course, you can only get to the park through the Conservation Area, which has no maps, no parking of its own and nothing to indicate that the park is there. This seems like a silly way to commemorate the veterans who didn't make it home, but what do I know? I'm just a dog.
I love this place already!
See how happy I am?
This is a helpful sign, isn't it?
Dragonfly.
This is the same dragonfly. He decided to pose for Mom's camera.
This is a water tower. On our way here we met a man, his two daughters (we assume) and a very playful Boxer mix named Caesar. The man told us all about sassafrass, and that there was a lot of it growing by the water tower.
He was right!
We can't get any closer to the tower.
I guess this is the end of this trail.
One positive aspect of our soggy summer is the plethora of pretty fungi.
Mom wants hair this color, but suspects she may be too old and pudgy to pull it off.
This is an historic stone wall. We know it is historic because the Stoughton Historical Society put up an 8 1/2 x 11" flyer about it, but the rain washed away most of the words. So we don't know why it's historic, but it's historic.
I love exploring. I didn't stop pulling Mom the entire time!
I got a little wet.
We don't know what this is supposed to signify.
I rolled in the pine needles.
This is the lake.
This is a box. It indicates zombie activity. It's been a while!
This is the inside of the box.
This is the lake again.
This is something in the lake. It might be a turtle.
These are lily pads.
This is across the lake.
This looks ominous....
I'm smiling!
This is a trail marker. This is important...
We're still on the trail. A trail, anyway.
Guess we shouldn't go this way!
Here I am being King of the Hill.
This is the view from the top of the hill.
Mom said not to jump in, but I did it anyway.
These are odd trail markers...
Mom didn't know what had been in these buckets, but she didn't let me drink any more of the water we found that day.
This is a birdhouse.
This is a gun range. We had somehow gotten so lost that we strayed onto the property of the Stoughton Rod and Gun Club or some such thing. The book had said that we should expect to get lost, but not this lost! Mom called Dad, who looked for a map online and told us how to get back to our car. Fortunately, the shooting range was deserted. Maybe no one goes shooting in the middle of the weekday. Either way, we probably won't be going back, because Mom prefers that neither of us ingests that much lead. But it was a very pretty site, with lots of sassafrass, and we had a great time.









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