Out Early

A woman is walking her two dogs and her goat down the street, with insouciance, the dogs loose-gaited, noses down, snuffling last night's news and other noisome scents hanging in the mist, yanking the woman here and there, floppy, familiar, nudging and nuzzling. The civilized goat maintains, except for her ears, a Renaissance dignity, stepping proudly, gracing the neighborhood, reserved but alert as an outrider, ready to mount any alp (were one there) to reconnoitre, for Charles Martel or El Cid, the ranked declivities and further ranges, sure to catch any threat - trotting beside, not tugging, her human companion, on tidy hooves, down Monserat Avenue in the early, innocent slumber of the 'burbs.

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