Lucy ate my Wellys

Regular readers are well acquainted with the hounds here at Falling Downs.

Lucy is the black-orange brindle with the cropped tail, the pup.

Boomer is the old girl.

Lucy is still in the chew-everything-in-sight stage of puppydom. She's done in an old Bible, a stack of 70's era car magazines, and a variety of extension cords.

And my TSC Wellys.

I'm as partial to boots as Lucy is. Except I don't eat them. I just wear them on my feet. Wear them till they fall apart.

For example, I've got a pair of Salomon hiking boots I bought in Calgary in '99. Still pull them on every morning when I do my 5k with Lucy and Boomer. Socks hanging out the sides, they're well past their "waterproof" guarantee, but I just can't give them up.

Just too damned comfortable.

Came from a shoe store in a Calgary mall. The store was having a going-out-of-business sale the day before I was going to hike up the glacier behind Lake Louise with my kids.

It was a purchase meant to be.

Not much good in the wet though, not anymore, what with your socks poking out the sides. That's why I had the Wellys. For those wet occasions.

With the late winter and the early spring we've been having more than our share of those around here, and the other day I'm looking for the Wellys.

Put them on the shelf right between the Bible and those old car books.

Can't find a trace of them anywhere.