There he was, running through the darkness, stealthily moving in the night, going from one side of the field to the other as I walked along.
"Are you coming?" he asked, as I fell behind. "Are you coming!? Come on!"
So much for him to do in the dark, in the cold, in the night.
"I'm coming. Hang on."
He doesn't care about the new year or about about that hellish decade just passed. He had no worries. He had no hopes to dash. There was only today's walk to the soccer field or maybe around the block or a jog at the track or a stroll to the woods will you take me now, please?
As I caught up, he went running off again, a sleak black dash in the night.
I set aside the grumblings that were eating at me and pulled up the collar of my coat and followed my dog.
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