Spring always makes me think of the dog I used to walk. When I was in 5th grade a neighbor got golden retriever puppy and needed someone to give her a good afternoon walk. My older sister was walking someone else's poodles, so I got the job. I was paid $2 for a half hour walk. I ended up walking that dog all the way through 12th grade, rain or shine. I remember a friend coming with me once on a particularly nasty spring day. The kind you get in Maine where there are still a couple feet of snow on the ground with an icy crust that is too weak to stand on, but sharp enough to scrape your legs. The walk was more like a slog and she asked me why I bothered to out on such a miserable day. I brushed my rain soaked bangs out of my eyes and told her it was my job.