I wake up sprawled across my bed—though, technically, my human sleeps here too. She stirs when I stretch, my paws pressing into her ribs. Morning! Time to start the day!

The air here is different. Back home in New Mexico, it smelled dry and sharp, like sunbaked dirt and sagebrush. Here, it’s wet and full of green things—grass, trees, earth that feels soft instead of dusty. I don’t understand it, but I like it.

My human does her usual boring human things before leaving, and I flop by the window to watch her go. Dramatically. Just in case she forgets how much she means to me. But I know she’ll come back. We were apart for a long time, but now she always comes back.

And when she does? Adventure time.

I barely let her get the leash on before I’m spinning, bouncing, whining—let’s go let’s go let’s GO.

We head into the woods, where the ground is covered in leaves that crunch under my paws. I gallop through them, tail flying like a flag. The trees here are so tall—bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. The smells? Incredible. Mushrooms, damp bark, mystery creatures.

And then—I hear it.

Water.

Not a bowl. Not a bucket like the ones I used to splash in and dump over back home. No—this is real water. Running water.

I take off, my paws thundering on the trail, and then—SPLASH!

Wait.

Why is it still moving?

I stand frozen, legs soaked up to my belly, watching in confusion. Why isn’t it stopping? The water keeps running over my paws, bubbling and swirling, as if it has no end.

My human is just standing there. Why is she not freaking out? This is incredible.

I do the only logical thing—I start stomping. Hard. Splish! Splash! Ha! It moves when I move! But when I stop—it keeps going. This is better than any bucket.

Then I remember—I can drink this.

I dunk my whole snout in and slurp.

Oh.

Oh, this is amazing. It’s cold and crisp and infinite. I take another big gulp, then another, eyes wide with excitement. It just keeps coming! I can drink forever and it’ll never run out!

I splash. I drink. I splash while I drink. I stomp and pounce and roll and—

Okay. Maybe I am freaking out a little.

This place is wild. The trees never end, the ground is covered in endless crunchy leaves, and the water never runs out. I don’t know how far this new world stretches, but I know one thing—

Tomorrow, we’re coming back.