She came into my life twelve years ago and changed it in ways I could have never imagined. Her name is Cadence. We have climbed, hiked, kayaked, swam, camped and explored from the beaches of North Carolina to the mountains of Colorado. I have nursed her sprains and cuts; removed fish hooks from her paws and fish bones from her mouth. I have watched her drag deer legs from the forest and catch fish from the lake near our home in Nashville. We have covered some ground and seen a lot of sights along the way. We missed a winter together when I deployed. We missed a summer of fun when I broke my leg. But never have we stopped. Time and arthritis are staking their claim,but Cadence will not relent. Nor will I. This is where the "toy" comes into our story. Cadence can only walk short distances now. So I pull her Radio Flyer All Terrain wagon on all of our walks - along the beach, down the greenway, and through the woods. For the first 1/3 mile, it's just a little red wagaon that rattles along behind me. But then that toy becomes the difference between going home or going another mile.