Thirteen of Thirty: Dogs are good for the soul

Every morning someone has to take our dog, Hoover, out for his morning 'constitutional'. Normally that's a quick tour around the yard - a quick 'scoop' - and back to the house  with the longer, more athletic perambulations happening later in the day.

This was a beautiful morning. As the sun rose slowly on the horizon, Hoover and I set out taking a new route. Walking with a dog brings new meaning to the term 'saunter'. Dogs have to closely examine every blade of grass, rock and poo pile (left by less considerate dog walkers) to catalogue who has passed this way before.

Hoover and I have a deal. On the way out we walk briskly, ignoring what Cesar Milan calls the morning newspapers of the dog world. On the way back, Hoover gets his way - sniffing and exploring, poking and prodding the detritus left by those who've gone before.

While he checks these things out, I have time to look around and make note of places that might make interesting photographs another time (when not accompanied by 'the nose'). I found three this morning.

In a distant field we sighted a herd of white tailed does, seven I think, grazing in the morning frost. It is hunting season right now, so they were skittish and some slight sound sent them bounding into the nearby woods.

I love those early morning walks with Hoover. But I dearly wish others would refrain from tossing broken glass, cigarette butts, empty beverage containers, soiled clothing and god-knows-what-else onto the roadside. There are better places for such things!