Morning - Four (Noseblind)

Fewer dogs today. Some mornings you hit the jackpot, and there's dogs everywhere, sniffing the ground, reading the messages in urine from other dogs on the fences and lightposts, scenting the coming fall in the wind, able to "read" the world better than I ever will.

Days like this I realize how much I miss with my human's nose. The summer heat that cooked the trash and coaxed the trees into deep, relaxed breaths is gone, and the cool breeze whisks all but the strongest scents away: coffee from the corner shop, smoke from the first delicious cigarette of the day, exhaust from the idling truck waiting for the light to change.