Our grand and glorious protector, Moby, half-Pyrenees and half Golden Lab by our best guess, is in hospice care at home.  Yesterday was a rainy day and he had no interest in braving the storm.  Today he had to be strongly coaxed out for a walk.

Once he got moving he was super outside.  We were accompanied by a trio of hooligan-aged kitteh brats along with their Uncle Tut.  We walked about a half-mile and Moby loved it. He drank puddle water, got to stop when he wanted to push his big old head into my thigh, and found plenty of pit stops along the way.

We ended up at home and he could not be coaxed back in.  Why would he. It was 65 outside.  He took up his accustomed guardian position.

He is quite like to have an adventure like he did yesterday: