glenfiddich
TravelsWithBarley.com
My furry navigator sensed last month that we should be somewhere on the road. He nosed around the bins of clothing and camp gear, sniffed my riding boots a lot, and ran to the sidecar every time I opened the garage. He doesn't understand "Next Year," so twice a week we go for a ride to keep in the habit, stop at his favorite lakes and streams, sometimes share ice cream.
Next year, Little Bug. We'll go out long next year...
Next year, Little Bug. We'll go out long next year...