White Dog is strong enough to actually yank me forward when she takes off at a gallop. Her power and stamina are seemingly endless as we "walk" along the river this early Sunday morning. It feels especially nice being just the three of us--Steve, of course, our third.
But as we eat breakfast burritoes in the shade we are all too aware of the clock ticking--soon it will be too hot for White Dog's feet and Steve will have to go to work.
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