Colby and I became acquainted on a warmer late Autumn mid-day. Cathy and I walked while Colby sprinted. A three year old golden, he stopped just long enough for this hurried capture.
I considered the considerable differences between this three year old retriever and our own 13 year lhasa, a house or more specifically, couch dog. Our walks have these days consisted of a circuit down to the mailbox and then around to the side yard for business. A few times per day. An occasional ball toss across the kitchen floor.
Colby, however, left alone and to his own real or imagined stimuli, did bound about our path. At times, he sprang forward a few hundred feet, running in loops, chasing… something, it seemed.
A lesson in youth and age. Of our own boundless looping, followed by the routine circuits of necessity. We progress.