He crouched beside the dog again and slid the stick under its belly, careful not to jab. The mud resisted like wet cement, sucking the wood in as soon as he applied pressure. He tried levering it up, just enough to create space, but the moment he did, the stick sank halfway and stuck fast.
“Come on,” he grunted, twisting it. The ground only swallowed more of it, mud bubbling faintly around his wrist. He yanked it back with a slurp, stumbling as his boot slipped. The dog jerked, a sharp growl ripping from its throat. Louder now, and even more defensive.