It had become their communion, three souls walking in the park. The man in his tromping shoes and two busy bodies that zigged and zagged on leash. The morning ritual taken together, their tails to the sky and sampling every nuance that came before them. A wrapper, some hat. Who was here before. The wonder of these things was the result but the walk was the thing. It began to feel like this thing was important. The place they went and shared seemed like hallowed ground. It was theirs for that time. It was taken in the moment. Concerns that seeped into the man's brain were noticed by the group and quickly cast away. Then the dog bodies would once again wriggle and bop over the ground and it was perfect. The dogs were the judge of what mattered, the man listened to the signs. And they walked. It was as natural as the sky and the trees. The way it should be.