After dinner last night, we took a long walk with the dog. The air was cold and moist and opaque. Kona trotted happily along over the damp sidewalk and leaves.

Halfway through the forty-minute journey, we came to the corner Chevron station, where there is a menagerie of lifelike iron bears — mamas surrounded by their cubs. When we have filled the tank at this station with Kona in the car, she has spotted these statues and growled at them, which is hilarious. We decided to introduce her to them face to face.

She was jumpy and nervous at first. I climbed on the back of one baby bear and grabbed its frozen fang with my hand. “Say hi, Kona!” I said.

So she approached, slowly, and sniffed noses with it.

Brian and I couldn’t help giggling. The cold metal bear nose did not have the scent she expected, so Kona was even more befuddled. As we left, I think she still thought they were real bears that were just being very quiet and waiting to eat her. Cutehead.

We walked up the tall hill home. When we got to our street I touched my hair; it was damp from the veil of fog that was sliding through town.