It was a chilly morning for spring, but that was far from unusual. 

Mason took a deep breath of fresh mountain air as he made his way down the street, dog in tow. Can’t get that in Vancouver. Emerson was very happy about the whole thing, never one to complain about a long walk. They’d spent the past hour meandering along, the big Bernese having the time of his life while Mason indulgently exclaimed over any impressively big sticks his dog picked up and apologized to anyone cornered for pets. With his nearest house-call a few hours away and one of North Creek High School’s finest overseeing the shop, the two of them were free to wander for a while yet. It was Mason’s favorite part of weekends.

Of course, Mason and Emerson didn’t agree on everything. Case in point: the happy bark! that echoed when they ran into yet another one of North Creek’s residents, the sight of the person making Emerson’s tail wag so hard that half his body swayed as he strained towards them. That marked the fifth time Emerson had gotten excited over running into someone on that walk alone. Unlike Mason, Emerson loved the chance to cozy up to someone. 

(Mason still hadn’t forgiven him for giving Ethyl Hogarth a chance to talk to him at length about how ‘a handsome young man like you should really be looking to settle down’ twenty minutes ago.)

“Hey, hey, c’mon Em,” Mason muttered, keeping a solid hold on the dog’s leash and leaning over to pat his neck. “Sorry about that,” he said, flashing an apologetic smile. “He always wants to say hi when he sees a friendly face.”