dreaming in red, flight, and blue

The dreaded day had come: our people-shy, carsick dog was due for her annual physical and vaccine boosters. Maisie would eagerly leap into the backseat, tongue flopping out of her month in anticipation for whatever magical destination awaited her, only to be confronted with invasive hands and sharp needles. It’s a disappointment that Dennie and I always try to remedy with a special surprise. After leaving the animal hospital, we rewarded our courageous canine (and our equally well-behaved selves; much like our dog, we bit absolutely no one) with a walk through the historic district, where luminous autumn hues contrasted against faded red brick and pale stone arches, and showers of maple leaves scattered over walkways like clusters of brilliant-red fallen stars.

Later, we traded in the city’s elegant edifices for her tranquil shores, making the brief journey through rows of flaming crimson to the beach, where we were met by cool breezes, allegedly fascinating scents, a fearless juvenile seagull, and a curious fellow beagle. After two exploration-free months, Maisie was, understandably, ecstatic about the entire post-vet experience. Thanks to the rippling wonders of the bay, by the time we were homeward bound, the doctor’s poking and prodding was long forgotten, replaced by the stuff of which every happy dog’s dreams are made.