我的狗狗让我失望了.docVIP

我的狗狗让我失望了 　　My dog let me down. Or so it seemed. I know that mans best friend is above reproach1）. And I may have just made a false accusation. But let me tell you exactly what happened. 　　A few hundred yards behind our property in northwestern Michigan， theres the start of an alluring2） trail. Its floor is coated with pine needles. Mixed deciduous3） and pine woods stand on either side. This trail is one of hundreds of old logging roads and newer snowmobile paths that wind through untold miles of forest. My dog—Beans by name—and I walk the trail frequently. Normally， we saunter4） along this one trail for half a mile， then turn right on another trail for about a mile. By this amount of time spent， Beans has sniffed at ferns5） and other flora6） and has ducked into the woods alongside the trail several times to follow the scent of a deer track or investigate some cause known only to him—as beagles7） do. 　　Beans is a vigorous8） 30-pound black and white dog with a brown head. He is quite handsome and very intelligent （taking after his adoptive father）. He can shake hands. He can jump through a hoop. And he loves classical music， which quickly puts him to sleep. He not only understands what we tell him， but he also often makes sounds as if he were trying to speak back. Am I being buffaloed9） by my love for him？ Maybe so. 　　On this particular fateful day， we started our walk before 9 a.m. Narrow patches of sunlight shone through the trees and lit the trail. 　　On this day， we took a different route which led us to a different and unfamiliar trail. Beans sniffed and darted back and forth. I was sure this trail would lead us to one that eventually came back to our familiar path. But， no. We seemed to be far off course. The first hint of concern sneaked into my mind. 　　I had no compass， which would have been useless anyway. I could see the sun still only part way toward high noon. So， believing that the sun still rises in the east， I knew that if we kept finding trails t