This was posted from afar and in a hurry, taking advantage of the dubious wifi in the lobby of a Mexican beach resort on an evening where my husband put Sebastian to bed. Non-writers will probably wonder why I’d use me-time on the prompt; writers will hopefully understand! The photo comes from Dawn Q Landau.
Perhaps you think I might just as well follow an invisible God or my morning horoscopes. Rusty’s paths veer between stubbornly predictable and desperately irrational with a flick of his tail or a twitch of his nose; we can be following an abandoned railway one minute, pushing through a hedgerow the next.
But I have followed men, I’ve followed their Gods and their traditions, their mores and their whims, and men have rewarded my trust with lies and fickle hearts. Now, though I sometimes walk in front, I follow a dog and he follows his nose, and our mutual faith is unshakeable.