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From the deep blue of the doors to the pale blue towels drying on the line under a clear blue sky with a few puffy white clouds floating along, everything seemed awash with joy. A strange combination of fuzzy Labrador and hound dog ears were fashioned together in the dog lying on the red tiles of the porch in front of the double blue doors with the large round steel handles. The little boy was balanced against the dog, his sneakers propped up on the door frame and his head pillowed on the dog’s belly.

Bobby’s latest book open on his stomach, his attention in the pages and the adventures of his favorite character, Sir Barth, that had taken him off to far distant lands and exotic places filled with swords and war horses and battles to be won. Sir Barth, strong and wise, had been instructing ten-year-old Bobby in the art of being a knight, and the certain magic that was this knight’s gift.

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Bobby spent hours outside with Gus, who didn’t mind the head resting against him, and easily imagined being able to ride like Sir Barth with his faithful Gus beside him. The front porch offered shade in early evening, although Bobby also loved his tree house. He had to stay close to be called in for supper, so mornings were more the time for escaping further from the big blue doors.