The night descends and the wind blows stinging cold against my cheeks. A woman and her daughter, dressed for the cold in bubble jackets and boots, and their wolfish, proud-tailed dog wander down the sidewalk ahead of me, and I listen as they urge the animal on.
"Come on, Charlie," says the woman, tugging at the leash, "or she'll get cold and tired."
"I'm not cold!" says the girl, and then begins to sing happily, "I'm not cold cold cold cold, I could stay out here all night!"