Fetching start to the day

AT first, I thought a dog would force me to exercise. I would rise early, walk briskly, build muscle, lose fat. I frankly had no thought of what I could do for the dog, only what she could do for me. This lasted a few weeks, until I discovered I felt unquenchable joy on our walks, when she stopped to smell flowers, roll in grass, nuzzle trees. I began to seek beautiful places to take her at daybreak, where, for an hour before I went to work, she could have fun, make friends and run free.

Serrania Park in Woodland Hills was the ideal spot. Carved in a deep horseshoe shape out of the mountains, the park is a flat table of grass surrounded on three sides by steep hills densely fringed by trees. Every morning, at the back of the park, I’d remove the golden retriever’s leash and she’d run wildly, ecstatically, free. Up and down the hills -- and back to me. Chasing balls on grass -- and back to me. Racing around with friends -- yes, there were dogs she liked, and dogs she had absolutely nothing in common with -- and back to me.

We humans never learned each other’s names. We identified each other by our dogs: Summer’s mother. Dodger’s dad. We smiled hello, stood in groups, rarely talked. It was a time to gather forces for the day ahead, no moment of which would equal this. The smell of pine, the sound of birds, the brightening sky, the tails wagging everlasting thankfulness.

-- Bettijane Levine