The two old friends arrive at dawn, as they have every Saturday for sixteen years. Toting shotgun and shovel, the man slowly, lovingly leads his dog toward their favorite blind.

Ducks rise. Clouded, intelligent eyes and soft grey muzzle scan skyward.

Forevermore, the retriever anticipates the roar of the gun.

Lou is trying to write stuff that makes sense to dogs and ducks. He has given up on people with guns.