One of the less joyous aspects of aging is that our enthusiasms may exceed our bodily capability! My greyhound Betsy seemed progressively more careful as she made her way across the paths., so I found myself walking like Betsy, placing each foot very consicously and treading delicately amidst the mud, quietly acceptant of age. We kept gazing at each other, across the mere boundaries of skin and fur enjoying the sun and a sense of the ‘family of things.’ We didn’t walk on our ‘knees’ and I doubt that we are models of goodness, though Betsy seems rather decent a soul to me. But the world in the frosty sunshine today seemed infinitely beautiful and certainly offered itself to our imagination!