The Picture I didn't Take

In the middle of this big wet snowstorm, about 6pm, the dogs had been gone for about two hours. It was getting dark, the power was out, Tom was out of town. I went out looking for them, mostly so I wouldn't be lonely. I found them a few hundred yards from the house. Fergus, the tall and skinny one was fine, but the squat border collie, Tess was covered in huge snow balls, and was stuck in a tree well. I'd like to think Fergus was staying with her so she wouldn't be alone, but he was staring at the chipmunk in the branches above him.

I picked up Tess, slung her around my shoulders like a wet, orphaned calf, and walked back up the hill to home in snow up to the middle of my thighs. It was kind of Western. It felt like husbandry. Snow falling all around, a house with a fire and a half a bottle of wine waiting, a dog wrapped around me and another bounding like a deer as we made our way back.