Missing A Friend

Last weekend, Pa re-initiated our semi-daily walks.  As my loyal readers know, I have never been a big fan of walks, but Pa's have always been the exception.  You see, when Pa and I go for a walk, he lets me take my time and sniff all around.  With him, I can check out all the fire hydrants, telephone poles, and plant life that I want at my very own pace.  Ma and Sister, on the other paw, require that our walks have a purpose.  In other words, they are "business" walks and not "pleasure" walks; I'm expected to walk nice and limit my sniffing to designated areas.  Not fun.

Anyway, on our very first walk this weekend, Pa let me lead the way.  I sniffed my way to the park, I sniffed up and down the dog run, I sniffed inside the park (where I stole an orange hockey ball), and I sniffed down blocks I've never sniffed before.  And all the while, I was analyzing every telephone pole I passed.  It was the perfect walk; a dog and his man, wandering the streets with no particular place to go and no deadline to meet.

After wandering aimlessly for about a mile, I came to a stop in front of a seemingly random house and stared intently into the yard.  Pa was perplexed.  It wasn't like me, after all, to spend extended time staring into a yard--examining a fire hydrant yes, but not gazing into an empty yard.  Pa looked around and, after a minute, he realized where we were:  we were standing in front of my old pal Ralphie's house.

My Pal Ralphie

Staring into that yard that day, I saw Ralphie.  I saw him making dog angels in the snow, guffawing with Brandy and Archie, practicing the famous "Golden Retriever Lean," and angling for pets.  I saw him wagging his tail and barking at people passing by with his thunderous bark. 

I miss my friend, but I'm glad to know that he's still around...keeping an eye on things.