“Set me free,” Beau muttered over and over again, “set me free.”


Stanley and I were walking on the road. We can’t go into the woods after it snows because snow is piled some 3 feet high deep inside and it usually doesn’t melt before end of March. That means leash; that means staying to the side of the road; that means no freedom.

But yesterday Stanley pushed me to the side, wishing to tracks the big prints that went into the forest. At first I restrained him, it was deep snow and I couldn’t go in there. Then I looked up and down the road, saw no cars, and thought: What the hell. I let him off and he ran towards the trees, sniffing and following each print carefully. He looked back at me, making sure I was still there, then went further in and I started wondering if this was such a good idea. If went in even further I wouldn’t be able to follow.

But then he re-emerged, gave a final sniff, and joined me on the road, tail wagging thanks.