Each morning now, Fate runs through the meadow, sometimes she hops for joy, or in excitement, if a chipmunk squeaks, or a mice runs for cover, or a rabbit darts into a hole. She disappears for a few minutes, then pops up here, or there. It has become a beautiful part of our day, a ritual, Fate loves every second of life.
3
August
Meadow Dog, Monday
by Jon Katz