Well, I was sorry because you were cross. But being in the pond was much too good to be sorry about by itself. You've no idea how squdgy the mud is at the bottom. 1964, Pamela Frankau, Sing for your supper, page 68:
Elephints a-pilin' teak / In the sludgy, squdgy creek, / Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak! c. 1890, Rudyard Kipling, Barrack-Room Ballads: