I unclip Simone from her leash. She feels her release and takes off at full speed. I've never seen her go so fast. I usually only let her off leash in enclosed parks where there are other dogs around, where she feels inhibited by those other dogs. But here, on the dunes, she is the only dog in sight. So, she runs.

She has a funny run, not graceful, a little wonky, like her legs aren't quite coordinated, sometimes like they might be tempted to fly off in different directions, sometimes like her back legs are trying to get ahead of her front ones. She runs without a glance back. Fifty meters. One hundred meters. Still doesn't look back. One hundred fifty meters. Two hundred meters and she is down amongst the trees now and I'm a little concerned. I yell out, "Simone." She stops. She realizes she's on her own. She starts the run back, back out from the trees, across the sand, up the dune. By the time she's reached the halfway point on the incline, she's huffing and dragging her feet. Silly girl. But she's happy. Manic eyes and panting tongue.

The hike around Sandbanks is four hours long. Along the beach, Simone stays away from the encroaching waves. On the trails, she gets tangled and caught in the underbrush. By the end, she is tired and for the next couple of days, she has a bit of a hard time rising after a lie down. It's her back right hip or knee. Then that passes and she's fine.

Simone is maybe five years old now. I've had her for just over two years, a foster failure from Toronto Animal Services South. She is my routine and I am hers. The vet tells me her recent skin allergies are either due to the environment or food which is telling me not much at all but other than that, she is doing well. I wonder about the limits placed on her life because she lives with me in the city but then she's not really a country dog. I think the open environment makes her a bit nervous. I remember the afternoon out on the property in Picton, how it was drizzling, ground wet, grasses too tall for her see over. She didn't like that at all. She was morose for most of that walk. And then later, there's a tick on her, stuck to her ear which at first I had thought it was a skin tag.

I'm pretty sure Simone prefers the comforts of an urban life. It's dry, warm. There are many soft surfaces upon which to sleep. Water and food are available and appear on schedule. There is no scary wildlife except for the black cat who lives around the corner - who is far too friendly for Simone's tastes - except for the squirrels but they know enough to run away, except for the raccoons but they just stare from halfway up a tree trunk. Certainly no coyote, deer or snakes.

Simone is entering middle age for a dog but she still dances when she thinks there's a chance it'll net her some food. And, of course, the warm welcome when I return home from work. And, of course, the occasional nuzzle for a pet, checking in, making sure I am still around and reminding me of her presence. She would be beside me 24/7 if she could be. Of course loyal, of course trusting, of course a constant companion. Those things will not change.