It was a crisp spring morning, the dew still shining on the blades of grass that were uncut by the blades of a mower. I was standing on gravel, the stone pieces crunching under my flip-flops as I held my camera.
I had no moment I intended to capture, though I figured that there would be one. The sunlight was bright, although tempered by its youth in the early morning.
My companion was my dog, Morton. A mutt of around two, with mournful dark brown eyes and a body equal parts brown and white, he was capable of sprinting about like a maniac one second and sleeping a moment later. He was also smart, brilliant in his own way. He knew me.
So as we were standing three-quarters of the way down the driveway, he anticipated what was about to happen; I shifted, putting my body into more of a squat. Morton's ears pricked, the mournfulness of his gaze tempered by his budding excitement. His swirl of a tail waved around, as he opened his mouth, grinning, elated. He knew the expression I had on, the position I was in.
I inhaled and began.
"Morton! What are you doing, Morton?!" I did the lovechild of a crab-like walk and a shuffle, jumping forward and slapping my free hand against my bare thigh. My voice raised in pitch, mock-scolding. "What do you think you're doing, young man?! Just what do you think you're doing?"
Morton crouched as if to pounce, his eyes shining, the picture of youthful exuberance. When I repeated my earlier statements, moving forward and slapping at my thigh to encourage him, he began sprinting in circles at top speed, rushing through the grass and leaving trails in his wake. I began snapping pictures, occasionally jogging towards him.
At the moments when he'd rush by me, I'd reach out to slap at his tail, which only made him wilder. The grass and the dew recorded his path.
Once, he paused, standing in the grass, attentive and looking oddly serious. I captured his stance, grinning. He stooped again when I moved forward, ready to get him up and moving again.
When at last he moved again, I merely watched, the moment before sheathed in time by the camera.
His paws kicked up the gravel when he ran around the driveway, and watching him made my head spin with him. Only once did he slip, but it was a small moment, and then he recovered and continued running.
As it was with him, everything seemed to last only a moment, and the sun burned away the dew.
Note: Rest in Peace, Morton (2016-2018). You were loved, you adorable mutt. May you live forever.