In the evening in the fall, when I put my grey Chicken hat on to leave for Bonfire, ACe runs to the door because he knows where we’re going and there is no place he’d rather be. When we get back from the dust, and the smoke, and the sweat, and the dirt and I toss my hat somewhere, he curls up with it, doubtless savoring the scents and sense of Bonfire as he drifts off to dream of tomorrow’s next Bonfire adventure. I know how you feel, buddy.