The Crossing, Land, Ho!

2 07 2008

Denny opens the kennel door to the deck and there is a new scent in the air: raw, dirty, earth.  god made dirt, dirt don't hurt


I push my nose under the rail and, with one eye, catch a glimpse of land.  With a simultaneous jerk, I am whisked into the arms of my Contessa and pointed in the direction of the elevator. 

My fair-sea friends bark a “buon viaggio”.  We have reached Southampton and the odyssey is over.

The clean sheets and clotted cream of London await.  Hyde park in the gentle mist of an English morning.  The fur hats of the palace guards…Buckingham Palace Guard

For a dog, life is clearly in the destination, I think.  For that is always where the nose points: discovery in middle of the unknown.

I am a traveling dog.are you walking the dog?




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