The woods of Forest Park received a sprinkling of snow last night. My two dachshunds have become heat-seeking missiles, preferring to hibernate for the winter rather than venture outside. I take Argos, my 11-year-old shepherd mix, and head to the Wildwood Trail for a run. Swollen with recent heavy rains, fallen trunks of maple and cherry sprout olive-green mats of Lyell’s bristle moss. A brisk wind shakes the last of the leaves loose from an old maple, and Argos and I keep running, mud slopping into my shoes and between Argos’s toes. It’s a good day to be outside.
- PART WILD: A Memoir of One Woman’s Journey with a Creature Caught Between the Worlds of Wolves and Dogs.