Dreams

To begin with, it is snowing lightly.  But there are still leaves, crispy and piled everywhere, their clean decay hiding smells beneath.  There are no leashes or harnesses or stitches or roads.  Only chasing and jumping tiny fences and children hugging gentle hugs (not the crushing kind that make Betty afraid she can't breathe).

Squirrels foolishly nibble acorns, their tiny foolish backs turned to Betty until she is just about to chomp them and they bolt, Betty happily chasing after, nipping at their fluffy tails.

And when she comes upon something delicious smelling and hiding under the leaves, nobody stops her from taking a taste.  Not even if it's poo.  Which is often the most delicious smelling item of all.