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Ahh... Just One of Many...
In New York

I have told and re-told this story many times over the last ten years about our Weimaraner when he was about six months old. He has been gone just over a year now, but we have him with us in many wonderful and lasting ways. His scratch marks are embedded in the French doors, his bed now occupied by the cat, still sits in front of a dresser, some of the kids toys kept as treasures bear marks of his teething days, and his collar and leash still hang on the peg of the coat rack in the mud room reserved just for animal attire. He did lots of maddening things well emblazoned in my mind to this day, like jumping out of a second story window, twice, once was not enough, but that is a story for another time. This one represents the craziness that generally filled some part of my day back then, and this one just happened to start off that way.

An early riser like my children, the dog enjoyed his outdoor adventures. This morning was no exception. Out he dashed at 5:15 am to do what dogs do first thing in the morning. Already up, dressed, and ready to start the day, my children and I surveyed the morning from our open French doors overlooking the deck onto the newly sunlit hills. The clear sky was already a beautiful blue. The sun streaked through the grass, touching the dew on the swing set, as it began to warm the sand in the sand box, while the water in the small kiddie pool reflected the morning light like glitter. The new growth in the neighbor's alfalfa field looked billowy and soft, and as I calculated in my mind when the cutting of the field might be I suddenly saw our pup playfully chasing a fawn in circles through that field.

He never broke his pace as I beckoned to him to come back. I summoned my husband, the dog's master, whose beckoned calls, and whistles to the dog also failed as mine did. Wearing only a pair of jean shorts he set off to retrieve the dog. Down the long deck stairs, across the manicured lawn and into the alfalfa he trod shoeless. That soft and billowy looking field attacked his bare feet with the hard stalks left from previous cuttings. He stumbled and limped on as he somehow gained on the pair still running in a circle. He joined them forming a trio and around they all went. The fawn just out of the dog's reach, the dog just out of the man's reach, what a sight and sound this was! The master's voice broke the morning newness, echoing and trailing off into the open windows of our still sleeping neighbors. Later on these folks would ask us just what the heck was going on that early in the morning. Little did they know that was the time we were up everyday, we were just quieter.

The dog was playfully unaware of the stress he was causing both the fawn and the master, and he even looked back a few times as if he and this usually doting master were in this together. Just when I thought this show could not look or sound any funnier, a turkey rose slowly out of the moving circle. The trio never paid it any attention. The sounds this gobbler made just added to the hilarity of the sight and sound as it moved slowly upward and over them. Eventually the fawn collapsed, and the dog lay next to it panting and staring like puppies stare at things they find amusing. The man snatched the dog firmly, but carefully and home they went. The fawn recovered and joined its mother.

We watched it in the fields with fondness for the rest of the summer. The man found the antibiotic ointment and the bandages for his feet, and he healed just fine.

When I first told this story to others it was about the dog. Over time it has become a story about our family, at a point in time when it was young and new like the dog, and like that morning. Stories this unique become etched into our minds to prepare us for future adventures, and yes, there were plenty more. Memories like these also help us to cherish the present. I miss those early days as hard as they were for us with young children. It is hard to believe that our dog friend left us thirteen months ago, we remember him so well. It is also hard to believe that my family has changed and grown so much since that mad morning adventure. I'd go back and do it all again in an instant.

We'll tell you what we're doing here... then maybe you'll tell us what you're doing there.

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