We have fallen into a schedule, my husband and I. He walks Anya (our Jindo dog) in the mornings and I walk her in the evenings. At some point over the past year or so, we've gotten lazy and dropped the after work walk.

Winter walks with Anya have become my favorite. There's nothing in the world quite like walking through our neighborhood and the adjacent neighborhoods in the sparkling cold. Usually, there is no one out, so we have the park and the entire walk to ourselves. Day or night, it has become a haven for me. A communion with my quirky pup. The best walk this winter was the one where it was snowing and sticking to the trees like heavy flocking. With the street lights lighting the snow-laden air and trees with an eerie glow.

Then there was the night I took Anya to the park with the laser pointer and actually let her off lead for some serious red dot chasing. It was really cold and the snow creaked under your feet. In the park, there was nothing but me, Anya and that elusive red dot. To see her run so freely and so intently, it was magical.

Now with spring coming, the rabbits and squirrels are out and about, which means no more off lead except in the tennis court. She longs to give chase and you can tell she's certain she'll catch the prey, but in her focus on the prey, the likelihood of her hearing a recall is slim.

Her breed defines territory not in terms of one's yard, but a much broader place. So, the entire neighborhood is her "turf". She gets used to dogs in yards and a variety of other things. There's an old dog up the hill and around the corner. Mark and I call him "bouncy dog" as he jumps up and down in one spot and barks as we walk by. He's an older dog and isn't outside as much as he used to be. If he's not out, Anya will do this sort of whine that we've grown accustomed to as somthing akin to uncertainty. She stops at the property line and waits for him to come out and bark. On the now rare occasion he does, she trots, no she prances along down the sidewalk towards home.

Tonight, it's about nicknames. We have a lot of nicknames for Anya. It's a wonder she knows who we are talking to! We call her Anya-Boo or just Boo. Rhymes with Didjeridu. Then there's the names on the walk. Pocahontas for when every square inch of the walk must be examined for new and interesting smells. The best is when she pokes her nose in the snow up to her eyes and comes up with a muzzle of snow. I don't know how she doesn't get it up her nose. You can hear the big sniffs she's taking! Or there's the intent sniffing of places much taller male dogs have marked. We have a new command, "Mark it or move it." Seems to work.

Then, there's her Superhero name: The Dribbler. As evidenced by the new command, she's very much concerned with staking her claim. Our wish list for a dog included beta, but we sure picked a alpha. So, on the days when the planets are aligned just right or Venus is in retrograde or whatever, she will make the walk a test in patience for me.

Now spring is around the corner and shortly the neighborhood kids will be out and about on our evening jaunts. This is the time of year that Anya becomes goodwill ambassador for dogs. The first words out of the neighborhood kids is "Does that dog bite?" Sad, but true. We spend time teaching kids how to approach dogs, letting them pet her and so on. For some kids, trying to pet her when she's sitting and just hanging out is scary. It's an exciting thing when one of them gets the courage to pet her. And then when they aren't afraid to pet her when she's facing them. For me, it's a huge adjustment from having the time alone with Anya to having to be social and interact.

Well, that's my thought for tonight. As I finish this, there's a deeply asleep and snoring pup at my feet. Yea!