There

After a most wonderful Christmas morning — presents, breakfast, recovery from presents and breakfast — we took the dogs for a walk.

My sweet girl, Roxy, gets so excited to go and pulls and pulls the whole time as though she’s a sled dog.

We rounded our loop and headed home. She’s pointed, pulling, her eye on getting “there.” And I realized, yet again, that there is no “there.”

We rush to open presents, then we rush to eat breakfast (then we collapse because we’re exhausted), then we rush to dinner. Roxy rushes her sled-dog walk out the door, eventually pulls me back to the house, then looks at me like, “Hey, we’re back where we started.”

Oh sweet girl, there is no “there” to get to.

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