We go on our walk
Leash slung around my torso
Stick resting on my shoulder
Me, in boots and hat
The master
 understander of social obligations to fellow path–takers
 barker of commands
 thrower of the stick
 gazing ahead at her
 Her happiness mine
She, naked to the world
The child
 wagging her tail and shyly, naïvely approaching all comers
 reluctant heeder
 joyful fetcher
 exploring the vast world of
  earthly treasures
  surrounding us

A hard scientific concept to explain
 light
It knows the fastest route
 ahead of time
and bends as it transitions,
 veers course
joyously following some cosmic efficiency
depending on the medium in which
 it finds itself
I throw the stick far down the creek
 thinking to guide Lexi into a long swim
with natural instinct she trots
 lengthwise down the watery beach
 and, in happenstance, selects
 the most efficient entrance to dive into the deep
Then there were those long minutes she spent
 at the edge of the pool
Determinedly awaiting the stick
 to drift to her

The scene dimmed
 with a gentle rush of wind
 as the leaves fell into the stream
The dreamlike matte blurring of the surface
 as the sunken leaves glowed like gems
All the while, soft droplets innocently danced
 with their distinctive expansion everywhere
Followed by heavier drops, deeper, not intrusive
 — on another level, ringing out —
And the kersplash and the wake of my dog
 causing huge ripples, yet still harmonious
 with all the beautiful blustery co–action
Wispy winds brush over the water
 with their own tickling touch
The wind and a pleasant rain
 come up from behind me, pushing me towards
 the vast coverage of webs of undulations
 all clearly distinct, all meshing together
in a beautiful, delicious, mystifying
 fall day of fetch

Luria Park, I knew since my youth
 On a field trip there, I found an ant creature
 Upon magnifying the water in a microscope
It was there I learned that Lexi loved the water
 and was afraid to swim
And walking back from there with her
 We bumped into and a cousin of Lexi’s, Nico
 and his kind owner Jim
 who suggested the path to the nearby lake
 where we’d later teach her to swim
Then there are the two parks nearby
 which Evi and Anyu once graced
 which I go to for a change of pace
Lexi even discovered the dog park
  by her own intuitive pulling one day
And my brother suggested the nearby nature center
 which offered its own mystical stream
 journey under the beltway
And that bike ride down Camelot which
 revealed the trail with a new, wide stream
 that I have yet to take her to
And for all this wonder,
 she just wants to be fetching in the water