Walking Charlie

Walking Charlie, my 2 and a half year black labrador retriever in the brisk fall morning ranks among one of my top ten favorite things in life, at the moment. I reserve the right to change my mind at any time.

I mention that Charlie is a black lab because people have repeatedly assured me that black labs are smarter and more agile than other labs. More agile, perhaps.  Faster, perhaps.  But, smarter?  Charlie and I alternate our walks along the same three routes.  We walk twice a day, almost every day.  Sometimes we play, “fetch,” or just hang out in the yard.  But usually we take a walk.  And every day he sniffs the same trees and the same bushes – he even barks at the scent in the field where the coyotes live at the same place.

It’s a comfort to me, that these walks with Charlie are the same.  Everything else in my life ebbs and flows, not a roller coaster any more, not a tidal wave, but still sometimes I loose my balance from the receding surf and before I can take cover, a wave breaks over my head and I’m gasping for air.  Charlie may try and take my for a little run around the block, but I know what direction he's going.

I can't say that for the rest of my life.  

For right now, Charlie and I will keep walking.  Maybe we will try a new route tomorrow, but it's not likely.