Morning Walk

   Willow trots ten to fifteen feet ahead.  A steady rhythmical beat; trot, trot, trot.  It is hypnotizing.  With each step her tail wags from side to side.  She pauses here and there to investigate a scent, scrutinizing each particle.  I pass her by to not even a twitch of the ear; I am invisible. Her mind is totally in her world now. Engrossed in analyzing every last molecule of the blade of grass or twig.

     At last, satisfied she falls back into her pace, I wait for her to catch up.   Our eyes connect as she approaches and she gleefully trots on by to her position in front; trot, trot trot, ahead she goes and my heart with her.

     Nash, further in the distance, switch backs in the woods. He bound from one rock, tree, or stump to the other.  Never going far out of sight for long.  Occasionally I whistle to call him when he finds a track to pursue.

    The return trip is much the same, except for the dip in the stream.  As we approach the pool created by the stream, Willow’s pace picks up.  Her tail wags with vigor.  Both dogs negotiate the slope and into the dipping pool.

   In Willow goes, the splash is the best. A paddle or two, turn around, stand and let the water wash by.  OK, now time to head home and on we go.  Nash usually satisfied with a drink and an elbow dip.

   At home – rest, and we crash content with our morning exercise.