We haven't had much of a winter around here. In fact, it has felt more like a perpetual spring. Muddy shoes, muddy paws, muddy floors. The dogs sense something in the air, and I am followed about the house by the thud of a ball being dropped at my feet. An invitation to fetch. To smell the grass, feel the breeze, muddy up the floors again. What was this ball? A baseball, perhaps? Chewed to bits during the frustration of being kept indoors? Soon, my pooches, we will revel in the sun.