Wooded

Come on puppies, let's get in formation.

Flying solo, walking two dogs early, navigating poop bags and the season's first gloved hands, making it several blocks before realizing how ridiculous it is that I'm wearing sunglasses.

In the woods, Clover runs and returns, leaps and returns, chases squirrels and returns. Then she finds a pile of something deliciously stinky to roll in. She is so proud, and when we get home, Gus admires her perfumed neck.

Matcha latte and a chocolate chunk bagel from this place = happy day.