A simple ritual it is, our evening walk down to the creek, before supper with the dogs and the chance of a ball or stick. To suspect this has been a well-worn human routine ever since Cro-Magnon and Neanderthal, our collective habit with dogs that old. Something distinguished happened to our species when we married our fates to dogs.
The dog connection has been my personal pattern since a farmboy wandered down the cow lane, age about 4 years old, herding the cows to their morning pasture. This was my first official farm chore; in the company of a dog.
Technically the dog was baby-sitting.