Country mouse mistakes rainforest slugs for dog poo… until they start moving.

Went for first North Vancouver run this morning. I had this need to put my body through a challenge and let my brain take a nap so I just started running, and soon found I was running past horse stables, graveyards, and then finally I found myself in the midst of cedar trees, plants, and nature.

A slice of home, for a girl who grew up in the boonies.

Did I mention that the smell of cedar trees is DIVINE?

So back to running,

thinking about how I am probably in need of new runners I glance down at my worn out footwear only to notice Black mini moistened logs scattered across the trail.

First thought was: Oh. Dog poo; no big deal just another obstacle in my morning run. Sort of like the 3rd level of Mario Bros. Where you have to hop over the pipe when the monster plant with teeth isn’t popping up to eat you.

Then I realize they are moving, squiggiling actually… sort of like…


Houstin. We have a problem.

I stop, skittering to a halt and crouch down like a four year old and begin to examine this creature. What I thought was dog poo was really, a GIANT SLUG.

First thought that comes to mind.

How many of these are squished into the treads of my runners?


Tempted to touch the thing I stick out an innocent finger, then recalculate my actions.

No Sally, don’t touch strange things.

Especially things that look like raunchy dog poo.

I stand up, realizing that yes I am in a public park and yes it would be strange to find a girl playing with slugs so I quickly check my runners for slug guts and carry on.

I am soon more aware of them, it seems I chose to run during there “cross the pathway migration” times because I have never seen so many gigantic slugs in my life.

As I am dodging, bouncing, and hopping over them I soon slip back into my runners rhythm, and carry on with my run.

I guess instead of moose, I now have to share my running pathways with slugs.

2 thoughts on “Country mouse mistakes rainforest slugs for dog poo… until they start moving.

  1. I remember the first time I encountered coastal slugs. It was in Chemainus at a campground we were checking out. It was dim because of the trees, the picnic tables seemed perpetually wet and mouldy and the place was rather deserted. The gigantic slugs moving at glacial speed across the picnic table was the last straw – I nixed the campground!

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