Behind a bale of hay, I walked. The dog followed. I could feel it’s breath on my knee and it seemed to be guiding me from the farm, then out the farm, then down the little dirt path under a trellis (Who’d put that trellis there, I wondered?) and then out onto a small fileed that had once been an orange grove.
What’s this all about, I asked the dog, a medium-sized blond Labrador.

I’m just following orders, it said, as it led me onward.