Later, I packed gear for a few days’ trek; my old Hedgehog fire starter, bowls—not sharing with the dog again—knife, and toothpick bo too; bless my old master.
We set off, Abbie making a ruckus in the frosted grass.
A few days later, we topped a rise and stepped into a meadow. I looked down at my shoe. “Well Abbie, I hope your instincts run true. We’ll be okay as long as you don’t run them off a cliff.”