And Then There Was One. . .

No McLaren vacation is without a hiccup. . .

To get ready for this fishing extravagana weekend, Dave and I spent two evenings purchasing breathable stocking foot waders and felt soled wading boots for me. We got up Saturday morning and fished for about 4 hours with a guide. After lunch at Sonic, we went back to the cabin for a nap. To keep the inside of the cabin clean, we removed our waders and boots on the porch. Dave moved our waders inside where he hung them to dry. Our boots were left on the porch overlooking the river.
A bit after laying on the sofas for a nap, we heard footsteps on the boardwalk outside. We presumed that it was the owner of the cabin who lives in the adjacent "Captain's Quarters." An hour or so later, Dave was rested up and ready for fishing round two. I was trying to decide if I was going to finish my nap or go fish, when Dave went out on the porch to gear up. He stuck his head back in the door to tell me, "We have a bit of a problem. One of your boots is gone."
When we returned from fishing, the blue heeler two houses up had chased the car. Putting two and two together, we decided those "footsteps" weren't human, but kanine. I got up and put on my shoes to help Dave walk around to find my boot. We walked for 20 minutes--nothing. We talked to the owners' of the blue heeler who knew nothing. We met a beagle two cabins down, who was still in his chewing age--a pink flip-flop in his yard told the story. But no boot was discovered.
We talked to the owner of the cabin who immediately suspected the blue heeler. I've asked her to mail me the boot if it turns up. I had four good hours of fishing in those boots. Guess I'll be buying another pair.