After that, it was time to go for a walk. It was a beautiful day, my daughter accompanied us, and we set off along the road, turning up the lane toward the alpacas at Bridget's request. (I think she chose that route because it lead away from the sheep.)
A caravan of three scary farm vehicles - the kind which suck up corn and spew it out over their shoulders into giant wagon trailers - went by, and Bridget looked hard but didn't become anxious.
We stopped to chat with some neighbors on the way. Bridget always gets impatient when the grownups waste time talking. After a couple of minutes of perfunctory politeness to the new humans, she nudged me forward.
Bridget set a personal best in her distance-from-home-without-wanting-to-turn-around. We were a mile or more from home, approaching the alpaca farm, when Bridget decided it was time to turn around. Don't know what made her choose that spot, but she may have gotten wind of strange new creatures ahead. Maybe next time we can venture close enough for her to inspect them.
|Here's Bridget indicating that it's time to turn around.|
|Here she is ahead of me, catching a couple of bites before I come alongside.|
On another note, here is George spotting his reflection in a window --