The Adventures of Livvy Sawyer and Huckleberry Anna

The other day after Livvy and I spent a nice afternoon with 'Pa, we decided to work off the copious amounts of candy and sushi we had devoured by taking a walk. By the way we seriously ate so much sushi that the waiter was laughing at us. He's all "you fatties want dessert? Of course you do!" I was so affronted that I smacked him across the face with our picked clean ten pound sushi boat. Who's laughing now guy?

Anyway, about a half a mile into what was supposed to be a three mile walk, I mention to Livvy that I had mapped out a five mile route and was meaning to try it. She jumped at the idea, and that was it . . . we were committed. About two miles into the walk I start hearing this high pitched squeal. I wasn't sure what it was, so I turned to Livvy to see if she could hear it too. Turns out it WAS Livvy, her little footsies were hurting because she had to borrow my shoes. Me, being the amazingly generous soul that I am, offered to switch sneakers with her so that she would stop whining.

So we stop in this sweet little cul-de-sac to switch, and when Livvy whips out her damaged footsies, I almost puked. At some point between when we started and when we stopped Livvy's feet had become so abused they looked like raw hamburger meat. It was frightening. I managed to keep my cool while she stuffed raw pulsating flesh wrapped in cotton into my new running shoes. Luckily my foot sweat is magical, and her feet healed instantly.

Another mile or so into our walk, I begin to worry seriously about the dog. It is not a cool day, and Rora is built more for arctic climes. I also did not think to bring any water, because the walk was supposed to only be three miles. Thankfully in the distance we spy a sparkling brook, at the bottom of a sheer precipice. Rora smells the water, and she is practically pissing herself to get to it. Livvy and I resourceful adventurers that we are, decide to brave the chasm to hydrate my dog. With Rora in tow, I scramble down the rocky cliff, while Livvy acts as my anchor. Once at the bottom, my sweet puppy frolics in the brook and sucks down about a gallon of water. Satisfied that she probably won't collapse from dehydration, I turn back to begin my ascent. It becomes clear to me that I will not be able to make the climb without letting go of Rora's lead. In a panic I call up to Livvy, and explain the situation.

Livvy full of piss and vinegar shouts down "Throw her up to me!"
I see that there is no other option, so I grab Rora by her ruff and launch her toward Livvy's waiting arms. Livvy catches her and pulls her to her heaving bosom. It was fantastic!

Then we walked the rest of the way home.