Last night's meeting took place out in the country, or so it seemed, under some giant live oak trees and in a nice big yard, so big that no neighbors could be seen, and no street lights interrupted the darkness beyond. These folks have a beautiful Florida home with a wrap-around porch and plants everywhere.
All of the dogs were on pretty good behavior--maybe they were afraid that some cougar or bear or vampire might jump out from the darkness any second. Berkeley, in particular, stayed close and stared out from between my legs. She squinted and strained to see into the side yard all through the meeting. (What a baby.)
Jennifer suggested that Berkeley seemed a little fearful of the dark and that she would probably benefit from more walks at night, so Cheryl and I plan to take her, though it's hard to find anything resembling actual nighttime near our house, with street lights on every corner.
When we lived in Arizona we could walk out our door to see a million stars. We'd walk our dogs into the desert and hear the coyotes laughing--boy, that really would spook Berkeley; she hates the sound of barking when it comes from a distance.
The meeting ended well and safe. Berkeley was an angel, but aren't we all when the nighttime gets too close?