LuLu and I have established a routine of a morning walk. In a little less than an hour we trace a familiar route down to the banks of the Irondequoit Creek then back up a steep hill and on home. Surprisingly Lu has increasingly developed a heightened sensitivity. Entering into the park she often pauses, raises her ears, looks over her shoulder and glances at me to determine if there is danger lurking. Its during the walk across the bottom-lands that, each day, she will, at several points, halt and plead to me with her eyes to backtrack. Pulling, pushing, even a gentle whack have no influence. It’s only when I say the magic phrase “let’s go see Barbara” that she always leaps lightly into the air and prances onward.