I live in a beautiful area. And there is no one around. No one. I take Peaches out to a mountain trail and I make a trail in the deep snow. The next day – only our footsteps still.

Peaches was NOT impressed. She recalled yesterday when we slogged along, each step was work – me lifting each leg and her bouncing from one boot print to the the next. At the start of the trail today, she turned around and went back. I’m not coming. I remember!

But today, we were walking (at least partly) on yesterday’s path. As I stepped slightly to the side so she could see the indent in the snow ahead of her, her reluctance vanished. She was like: freedom! And took off, full speed ahead, a cloud of snow and dog. The fun term for this excited and wildly enthusiastic pace is “the zoomies”.

Meantime, I followed, not much faster than before. But relishing the delight in the pup. Delight.

Okay, so isn’t this like my art process, a bit? I come up with this idea – this darn peak I want to reach. And then, I need to get there. Step by darn step. And, if I have to re-create any part of the process – the steps are there already for me. Once the path is made – oh yeah, then I can scoot. Scoot along. Maybe not with the abandon of the pup.

But isn’t that what pets are for? I may be living far from other people. But I have the embodiment of joy alongside.

And that can be said – at times – about my art, as well.