The dog's forward momentum has slowed from a trot down to almost nothing as she pauses at the base of every post of this scaffolding to sniff.
After going over each in agonizing detail, she stands stock still looking over her shoulder with an expression that's difficult to read.
I'm trying to temper my impatience, repeating to myself that there's much to be learned from the pace of a dog, that I should really pay more attention to my surroundings, and so on, until it suddenly dawns on me.
"Do you want to go home?" I ask, and immediately she turns around and starts to sprint back the way we came.