Dog Joy

Wet leaves layered on the asphalt like a slick carpet, even in my rugged shoes I watch my step. I fall easily it seems, on steps, on trails, in port-a-johns. Two pulsing dogs pull me forward, one on each hand. They know the rules by now; we are walking, not shopping for grass salad or cat poo. Still, their electric joy makes me hum, too. Happy to be out in the air; to be, all in one moment.