Whitefish River You are an eye-catcher, mom.

She probably would have had better luck comically scrunching along like an inchworm, but instead, tiny paws splayed against the ground, successfully brushing earth away but not really making too much in the way of progress. Her muzzle scrunched up slightly -- like wow, this was so unfair. No, wait, it was because she managed to kick dirt back on herself somehow, which was very displeasing. It was a tiny guttural noise, if such a thing was possible, displeased even more by this turn of events. Nutmeg flailed a bit more, scooting only a fraction of the distance, but the longer the distance continued to last, the louder she was getting before finally giving up with a tiny yowl.