So there we were, trekking through a sunny open field bordered to the West by a steep forested hill and to the East by a strip of trees and the Mad River. The sun shone bright and the wind was low. We must have looked like a vagabond pair, this dog and I. Me, trudging through the snow with an old, canvas shoulder bag and a mandolin slung loosely, and a dog at my side. We might as well have walked a hundred miles together.
And that is the story of Suerte.