Who's Walking Whom?

I walk my two dogs, a golden retriever and a collie, every day. Phoebe, the six year old golden retriever leads the parade. It is her walk and Amos, the collie, and I merely tag behind. She decides where we want to go and when we turn for home--within reason.

It seems that whenever I have an agenda in mind, usually due to a time constraint, I spend the better part of an hour fighting with a very strong and stubborn dog who simply plants her feet and refuses to move. It's much easier, although every dog trainer in the world would agree that I have lost control, to simply go with the flow. Eventually, we always get home, although it may not be by the route I would have chosen.

There is most definitely an analogy here to telling a story. The shortest distance between the beginning and the end is not always a straight path. In fact, that is usually a boring route. Instead, it is better to stop and sniff every bush, veer for squirrels and explore an alternative trail through the woods. There may be some unplanned diversions along the way and sometimes a startling moment of beauty, like when a deer bounds from the woods right across your path or a hidden tootsie roll, fallen from a child's trick or treat bag rolls across the sidewalk (we had an amazing fight over that one but I eventually wrestled the chewy delight out of her mouth before she broke through the wrapper).

You get the picture. Go with the flow and let the story meander a bit. As long as you end up where you want to be, it doesn't really matter how you get there--within reason.

I tell you all this because that is about where we are in the creation of Plan B--adding some diversions that change course but ultimately add to the richness of the tale.

Phoebe would approve.