It's not the destination, it's the journey.

No, I'm not waxing all philosophical on you, or not too much, anyway.

Last Sunday, I got off of work early, and since it was such a beautiful day (unlike windy, chilly today), I got the pups leashed and we headed out for a long walk. I needed the exercise, meself!

We set off to explore areas I'd not yet visited in my perambulations, and since the road was extremely flat (thus the visibility was good) and very untraveled, I let the dogs off-leash so they could run.

Now remember, in Vegas, the only time I actually walked the dogs was when we were going to the park.

After about a half-hour or so of marching along, I turned around to head back home. Harley looked up at me all bewildered, as if to say, "WTF, Mom?! Aren't we GOING somewhere?!"

I replied, using my best Farmer Hoggett voice, "It's not the destination, Harley, it's the JOURNEY."

He still looked at me like I was a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Oh, well. Pearls before swine, and all that.

While we were on our way back home, I took a moment to greet some horses that were grazing along the fence line (squeeing internally, I might add. I've always been horse crazy.)

My dogs ambled a little closer to the fence, and I could almost see the wheels turning in Harley's little brain, "DAMN, that's a big dog!"

He eyed the horse's posterior, and I all but saw the thought bubble pop up over his head, "Man, his butt's way too high up! How'm I supposed to sniff it?!" Since I didn't happen to have a stepladder handy, and since the horse was on the other side of the fence anyway, Harley was destined to be disappointed. Poor thing.

I still think my dogs believe all the other critters around here are very strange dogs.

In any case, we had a really good time. :) I look forward to our next walk in the country.