The mountain of dirt you see below has been a favorite destination of mine for the past five years. While arrangement of the dirt changes constantly, it doesn’t actually appear to have any practical purpose other than to provide a fantastic view from the top. In the past, I have taken Kobe jogging up this mountain (jogging is a strong word; perhaps it could better be described as ascending sluggishly), so I decided that I would take both dogs hiking there today.
Although the trip was generally quite enjoyable, there was one point when we were almost at the peak of the mountain where both Kobe and Aisha decided to amble down an almost vertical slope of dirt (shown in the above photograph) to the nearest flat area twenty feet below. What I don’t understand is this: my two dogs never do anything positive in unison. They never sleep simultaneously, they never walk in a straight line simultaneously, and they never poop simultaneously. Yet the moment they can cause trouble, the moment they are perched on the edge of a loosely-packed dirt cliff where I am already nervous and unsteady, they both agree to go off the side together.