And then I saw it. Brightly standing out. Right at the point where my person and I usually turn around and head back for home. You couldn’t miss it in all of its orangeness. A ribbon tied to a tree. It hadn’t been there before.
I puzzled about that ribbon on our way back home. We were almost to the end of the trail – when there it was.
That ribbon had beaten us back home. And now it was tied to another tree. And it was almost as if that ribbon was trying to tell us what to do. Turn around here. End your walk here.
I am not going to follow a ribbon. Orange or otherwise. I just won’t do it.
If that ribbon thinks it’s going to tell me where to go, I’m going to go a different way. I’ll turn around at a different place, and I’ll find a different ending of my trails to come out on. No orange ribbon is telling me what to do.
But wait. Maybe that orange ribbon isn’t there for me at all. Maybe I won’t have to change which trails I walk on. Maybe that orange ribbon is there to mark the beginning and end of a race. I bet those pesky squirrels are racing on my trails.
Now’s my chance. I’ll wait until those pesky squirrels run by, and I’ll stick my paw out and trip them. Every last one of them.
And then I’ll give those squirrels what for to make up for all the times they’ve been hanging out in trees harassing me.
I wonder if I could get that orange ribbon to lay out a different course. Maybe between two trees closer together with bare ground in between.
I hope those squirrels obey orange ribbons better than I do.