We walk.  Every day without fail.  Some days not as far as other days, but always somewhere; even if it’s just around the block in the rain.  We’re not going anywhere.  This is not one of those “walk across America to cure people from ever wanting to walk again” stories.  There’s nothing heroic in where we go.  It’s just what we do.

It was probably my idea. They don’t have many ideas of their own, at least not many good ones.  But they took to it right away and now, even if I’m not feeling up to it, they bound out of bed and insist we go. There’s no point in trying to reason with them.

When we pass people on the sidewalk someone is almost certain to say “how cute.”  I figure they’re talking about the dogs, but I often ask.

I’ve had a dog most of my life—except for that part in the middle when I was living in apartments and moving from city to city.  But no question, we are dog people.  When my parents got married they got a Pekinese named Peke and not long after a Scottish terrier named Scottie.  Let’s just say the creativity gene pool was not overflowing.  I should be grateful they didn’t name me “Kid.”

It’s a funny thing, what a stabilizing force a habit can be.  We walked when my Mother died and after my brother called to say he was diagnosed with brain cancer and had less than a year to live.  And when he died, we walked.  We walked through my layoff and job search.  We walked through my leukemia diagnosis and we walked through chemotherapy.  Cheryl’s father died and we walked.  Cheryl prefers the treadmill because it doesn’t stop to sniff the bushes and you don’t have to pick up after it.

We walk down the street and wind through the blocks.  The route is a little different every day, but it’s all the same neighborhood.  We’ve seen the streets day in and day out for nearly eight years.   We know where the sidewalk is raised from overgrown tree roots.  We know who waters their lawn and when they water it.  We notice the landscaping.  (When did flower beds become “landscaping?”)

This morning I saw a house I hadn’t seen before.  We walk past it every day, sometimes both coming and going, but I’d never seen it.  I can tell you what plants they have in their yard and can describe the stucco wall around their planter, but I hadn’t noticed the house.  A whole house unseen.

That’s when I decided I have so much more to see.