Riverwalk

I took the monkeys down to the riverfront after school a few days ago to collect driftwood for a small garden fence we plan to build...someday. I told Warren I'd try and do something productive while he was out of town for work. Plus it's cool to see the Mississippi so high.

We somehow timed our visit to coincide exactly with that of a man my age and his young son and daughter. The way the little girl and boy took to my monkeys it was almost as if they had somehow pre-arranged this meeting.

Satchel immediately set off to find a nice long stick to test the depth of the water. Once he found one, he ventured out on the "beached" tree trunks in order to do multiple tests. The little boy and girl wanted to follow him out, much to the horror of their father.

"Gracie, Connor, come here," he pleaded. They reluctantly listened.

Jiro, who took a header into the koi pond at the Botanic Garden when he was two, was thankfully sticking by my side. "Come on, Satch," I said. "You're not setting a good example for the little kids."

He jumped off the tree trunk into a nice muddy spot. "Is this quick sand?" he asked as all the children gathered around to investigate. "We're going on the bridge!" Connor said to me as he clomped past in his cowboy boots. He reminded me of a three-year-old Satchel.

While the boys continued to explore the "quick sand," Gracie came up to me and asked, "Why do you have two boys?"

I laughed and shrugged my shoulders. "It just worked out that way."

She thought about this for a second and then joined the boys.

"I'm sorry," the dad said.

"Oh, no worries," I said. "I know how it is."

We continued along the bank at a pretty steady pace and eventually the dad was able to wrangle Gracie and Connor away from us. (I could hear them saying, "Why can't we stay with them!?")

Just as I was feeling like the perfect earth mother Satchel started bombarding me with questions.

"Does the Mississippi River go underground?"

"Uh...no, not really," I said.

"Does it go all over the world?"

"No, but there are a lot of different rivers in lots of different places."

"Does it connect with the Buffalo River?"

"I wish Daddy was here," I said.


Satchel went back to testing the water level, now with two sticks, while Jiro and I happily continued hunting for driftwood. Satchel now looked like he was skiing on the logs rather than walking on a tightrope. Jiro soon became more interested in the birds that were enjoying the cool breeze coming off the water. What a lovely evening!

My reverie was cut short when I heard Satchel yelp, "WHAT'S THIS?"

I looked over to see him poking at a blob in the water.

"Is it a mudball?" I asked as I tried to focus my eyes on the blob. (Don't ask me what a mudball is!)

"Oh! It's HAIRY!" he screeched.

"Wha...?" I ran over to get a closer look. "Oh honey, it's a dead dog," I blurted out.

"How did a dead dog get in the river? Did he jump off a boat? Did he do it on purpose? Can't dogs swim?"

"Uh, I don't know," I said. "Maybe he was just playing on the grass when the river started to rise and he got carried away."

"I wish Daddy was here," Jiro said, not at all liking this turn of events.

"Look at that awesome piece of wood!" I said hoping to get them back to our original mission.

"Cool!" Satchel said as he ran over to grab it. "I'll carry this one."

"Great," I said. "We'll all need to carry some."

I had pulled out about six substantial pieces of driftwood along the way. Satchel was a great helper, but the wood was really heavy--especially the wet ones. Jiro refused to help and even went so far as to ask me to carry him!

"I wish Daddy was here," Satchel said, in what became the theme of our outing.


Satchel and I took a few breaks, but were eventually able to get all of the wood back to the car.

On the way home Satchel said, "Call Daddy and tell him about the dog!"

So, I did.

Warren said, "So what did you do? How could you tell it was a dog? What kind of dog was it? How old was it? Did it have a tag? How did it get there? Do you think it jumped off a boat?"