The sun began to spill over the horizon like a soft pat of butter. The pink dawn steadily gave way to the bright blue of day, but good fishing was far from over. Frito glanced up at the cotton candy sky and closed his eyes. It was a reflective and spiritual moment. A long subdued whine signified his release of the loss. He flicked his ears back toward Dragonfly as she offered to help. Her confidence suggested she had been fishing before, but Frito was not inexperienced. He *lived* to fish. Nonetheless, good company was always appreciated. He gave Dragonfly a determined nod before cracking a wildly mischievous smile.

Frito flexed, and in an instant became a violent shaking water tornado, sending splatters of water careening everywhere. The soft black skin of his lips flapped lightly, exposing pointy canines, as he rolled his head furiously from side to side. He yipped playfully as the beads rocketed off him like aqueous BBs in every direction. As if the morning hadn't already been chaotic enough... When he was through, he smiled widely at Dragonfly and laughed beneath his ridiculously fluffy fur. Like a puppy all over again, he plopped his forequarters down and stuck a wagging butt high in the air.

There were three things: snow, water, and sunshine; that turned a wolf into a pup all over again. Even the ornery, serious ones couldn't deny the magic of a fresh snow, of a cool pool on a hot day, or of the kind of sunshine that warmed you right to the bone. For Frito, there was one other source of magic... Fishing. He barked excitedly, ready to embark on a new expedition. He sprung at Dragonfly, gently but decidedly going for the scruff of her neck with jaws wide open. In the midst of rough housing he encouraged, "Lead the way, oh mystic fisherwoman."