聚会之后，微醺之际，本想一头扎进温暖的被窝，却被小狗拖到雪地里，在纷纷扬扬的雪花中漫步。在万籁俱寂的深夜，雪花倾斜着飘落的样子清晰可见，空气透着沁人心脾的凉爽，最初的抱怨也变成了一种庆幸。有多久没有放下心事，如此漫无目的地闲逛了？
In the beginning， I walked around the block. Or a couple of blocks. It didn’t seem to matter. That it didn’t matter was in itself novel1）. It had been a long time since I had gone out without any particular destination or direction， without knowing whether I was going to turn left or right at the end of the front walk.
I had no idea where all this was leading， though I like to think that even then I felt something tugging2） below the surface， the way a fisherman feels vibrations on a taut3） line and wonders whether something’s biting or it’s just the weight brushing at the bottom.
The simple aimlessness of it made me feel like a kid again. Back then， I was always out， had to be out， couldn’t bear not being out. Home from school， I shed books and disappeared， the parental refrain of “be home in time for dinner” trailing behind me.
Pete， with his boundless enthusiasm for the outside world， was like the reincarnation4） of that juvenile self. We’d hit the sidewalk and， like two kids with nothing special to do， spend a half hour meandering5） about. We were suburban vagabonds6）. In the mornings， with the whole world rushing to get somewhere， there was something almost subversive7） about roaming around with a companion who had no responsibilities.
And every once in a while， there’d be a night when the simple act of going away from the house and not coming back was like a scene from It’s a Wonderful Life8）. I remember one snowy night. This was one of those times when I really didn’t want to go out with the dog. There had been a party； I was a little tipsy9）； the house was warm； my bed beckoned10）. I had practically forgotten that we had a dog until I heard Pete’s desperate reminder， a single yip11）， issued from the direction of the front door.
I felt put upon12）. What was the story with this animal， this beast with its primitive needs？ How could it continually rely on me to provide this escort13） service？ Was it my fault that dogs hadn’t kept up with their evolutionary development？ Where did this sense of entitlement14） come from？ Was there a clause in some ancient contract between people and dogs？
I tried the last refuge15） of the reluctant dog walker—opening the back door and pointing to the backyard. Shouldn’t that be good enough？ Do I expect a trip to the bathroom to be recreational？ Get it over with， while I watch from the window. But Pete was having none of it. It was a showdown16）. All or nothing. He was incredibly stubborn sometimes. It had to be a real walk， him and me together， out the front door into the bigger world. Finally， cursing loudly， I surrendered. Pete watched my every move as I put on boots， coat， scarf， and hat. At least he had the tact17） to forgo the celebratory tap dance18）. Out we went into the gentle night.
The snow was coming down hard， in big， sticky flakes. I shuffled down the walk， plowing two clean lines with my feet. The snow clung to every horizontal surface—tree branches， the curving contours19） of cars， house roofs， and porch railings.
The houses were all dark—not even the flicker20） of TV light. My virtuous neighbors were all asleep. No cars had come up the street yet. By morning， it would be plowed， shoveled， compressed， salted， melted， blown away. But for now， snowflakes lay undisturbed in airy piles.
I let Pete off the leash. He trotted21） ahead， up the hill， pausing to raise his leg at the fire hydrant22）. Even the hydrant’s small hexagonal23） top had a perfect plug of snow standing on it. The air was bracing24）， like a pinch of snuff25） in each nostril.
It was， in a word， beautiful. And I found myself reflecting once again on this minor miracle of dog walking： how， forced to do something—even something you really， really didn’t want to do—you could end up feeling grateful for it.
I felt wide-awake and strangely energetic. In the streetlights， I could see the precise slant26） of the snowfall. The low cloud ceiling reflected the light from the nearby city， making the sky unnaturally bright. I made a few snowballs and tossed them in Pete’s direction. They disintegrated in the snow at his feet. Finally， he caught one on the fly—or at least half of it.
We came around the last leg27） of our around-the-block journey. The house came into view. Its simple rectangular28） shape， its snow-covered roof and smoking chimney made it look like a child’s drawing. Curtains framed the darkened windows of the rooms. Up there， on the second floor， the children and Janet were sleeping.
How had all this happened？ Out of a series of unplanned moves—marrying， having children， moving here—life had taken a good turn. It had all added up to something， after all.
Pete peed on his favorite telephone pole， the last stop before the house. Claire’s cat， who had slipped out with us， was pacing in front of the door. I loved the animals’ sense of entitlement， their certainty that this place belonged to them， as well as to us. I had created not just a home—but a den， too！ I let them both in ahead of me.
Soon we’d all be asleep. Pete would find a spot on the floor of the upstairs landing or， more likely， on one of the children’s beds. He’d lose himself in dreams， feet twitching in anticipation of tomorrow’s adventures. He’d be the first one up， nudging the oblivious children awake. There would be no sleeping in29） when fresh snow was on the ground. 一开始，我是绕着这个街区转悠，或者是周围几个街区。似乎往哪儿转都没什么关系。没关系这一点本身就很新鲜。我已经很久没有这样转悠了：既没有特定的目标或方向，也不知道在走完前面的路之后该向左转还是向右转。
我当时并不知道会走向哪里，但现在我常想，即便那时候，我也感觉到地下似乎有什么东西在拉扯着我，就像垂钓者感到拉紧的渔线在抖动一样，不知道是有鱼儿在咬钩呢，还是铅坠触到了水底的什么东西。
在这种单纯而漫无目的的闲逛中，我好像又变成了一个孩子。小时候，我总是喜欢外出，忍不住要外出，不出去就受不了。一放学回到家，我扔下书包就跑没影了，身后是父母一声声“按时回家吃饭”的叮嘱。
皮特对外面的世界充满无尽的热情，就像我年少时的化身。我们常常走上人行道，像两个无所事事的孩童，花半个钟头漫无目的地闲逛。我们就像是郊区的流浪汉。早上，当整个世界都在匆匆赶赴某地时，我却和一个没有任何职责的伙伴一起闲庭信步，这倒真有点颠覆世俗的意味。
偶尔会有那么一个夜晚，走出家门，不念归途，这个简单的行为就像电影《生活多美好》中的一个场景。我记得有这样一个雪夜。那天像其他几次一样，我真的很不想出去遛狗。我刚参加完一个聚会，喝得有点微醉，屋子里很暖和，床铺在向我发出诱惑的召唤。我都快忘记我们家还有条狗了，这时我听到皮特急迫的提醒——从前门方向传来的一声狗叫。
我有一种被人占了便宜的感觉。这畜生——带着原始需求的畜生——到底有什么来头？它凭什么总是赖着我，让我提供陪护服务？狗跟不上进化演变难道是我的错？这种权利意识是从哪儿来的？人与狗之间的某个古老的契约里难道有这么一条吗？
我使出了不愿意遛狗的主人经常使用的最后一招：打开后门，指着后院。这难道还不够吗？我难道还指望通往卫生间的路途充满乐趣吗？快点解决吧，我站在窗口看着呢。但皮特根本不吃这一套。它要跟我决出个雌雄，不成功便成仁。有时它还真是固执得要命。它要的是真正的散步，必须跟我一起，从前门出去，走进广阔的世界。
最后，我大声咒骂着，还是投降了。我换上靴子，穿上大衣，围上围巾，戴上帽子。这期间皮特注视着我的每一个动作。至少它很机敏，放弃了庆祝胜利的踢踏舞。之后我们出门走进了温柔的夜色。
雪下得很大，鹅毛般的雪片粘在一起飞舞着。我拖着步子在人行道上走过，用脚开路，踩出了两条清晰的线。白雪覆盖了每一处平面——树枝、汽车曲线状的轮廓、房顶，还有走廊的栏杆。
四周的房屋一片漆黑，甚至没有电视闪烁的光亮。本分的邻居们都已进入了梦乡。街上还没有汽车行驶。明天早上，积雪就会被清除、铲走、轧平、撒上盐，或者融化，或者被风吹散。但此时，轻柔的雪花正越积越厚，无人打扰。
我松开了皮特的绳索。它在前面一路小跑，爬上小山丘，在一个消防栓旁边停了下来，抬起了腿。就连消防栓那小小的六角形顶盖上也立着一个雪做成的塞子，完好无缺。空气格外清新，令人神清气爽，就像每个鼻孔里都抹了鼻烟似的。
总之一个字：美。我发现遛狗这一奇迹般出人意料的小事又一次让我陷入沉思：就算被迫做一件事——哪怕是你非常非常不想做的一件事——你最终也可能会为之感到庆幸。
我变得睡意全无，不知为什么觉得精力充沛。在路灯下，我可以清晰地看到雪花倾斜着飘落。低垂的云层反射着附近城区的灯光，天空亮得很不自然。我团了几个雪球，朝着皮特的方向扔去。雪球落在皮特脚下的雪地上，摔碎开来。终于，皮特接住了一只飞来的雪球——至少接住了一半。
我们走到了这次环街区旅行的最后一段。我已看到自家的房屋。那简单的长方形形状、白雪覆盖的屋顶和烟囱使它看起来仿佛是孩童的绘画。所有房间的窗户都黑着，窗帘勾勒出它们的轮廓。就在那里，在二楼，珍妮特和孩子们正在熟睡。
这一切都是怎么发生的？结婚、生子、迁居——在一系列未经筹划的事件之中，生活已渐入佳境。毕竟，这一切叠加在一起还是非同寻常的。
皮特在它最喜爱的电线杆上撒了泡尿，这是回家前的最后一站。克莱尔（编注：可能是作者的女儿）的猫是跟我们一起溜出来的，此刻正在门前来回踱步。我喜欢这些动物们的权利意识，它们确信这个地方不光属于我们，也属于它们。我创造的不仅仅是一个家，也是一个窝！我让它们俩先进去，然后我才进屋。
很快我们都将酣然入睡。皮特会在楼上的楼梯平台处找个地方睡下，不过它更可能会睡在某个孩子的床上。它会迷失在梦乡里，双脚微微抽动着，似乎在期盼着明日的历险。它会第一个起床，用身体摩挲着将迷迷糊糊的孩子们唤醒。地上积着刚下的雪，孩子们是不会睡懒觉的。
1. novel [?n?v（?）l] adj. 新奇的，新鲜的
2. tug [t?ɡ] v. 用力拖（或拉）
3. taut [t??t] adj. （绳子等）拉紧的，绷紧的
4. reincarnation [?ri??nkɑ?（r）?ne??（?）n] n. 化身
5. meander [mi??nd?（r）] vi. 漫步，闲逛
6. vagabond [?v?ɡ?b?nd] n. 流浪者，漂泊者
7. subversive [s?b?v??（r）s?v] adj. 颠覆性的
8. It’s a Wonderful Life：电影《生活多美好》（1946）。影片主人公乔治在圣诞夜丧失了对生活的信心，准备自杀。于是，上帝派了一个天使来帮他渡过这个危机。在天使的指引下，乔治看到了如果自己没有来到这个世界，很多人的人生会变得不幸和痛苦。他由此明白了自己生命的价值所在，重新鼓起了生活的勇气。电影中有一个场景，乔治面对困境不知所措，在漫天大雪中走出家门。
9. tipsy [?t?psi] adj. 微醉的
10. beckon [?bek?n] vi. 召唤；引诱
11. yip [j?p] n. 〈口〉犬吠声
12. put upon：利用，占便宜；使成为牺牲品
13. escort [?esk??（r）t] n. 护送，陪同
14. entitlement [?n?ta?t（?）lm?nt] n. 权利，资格
15. refuge [?refju?d?] n. 权宜之计，招数
16. showdown [?????da?n] n. 摊牌；最后的一决雌雄
17. tact [t?kt] n. 机敏；圆滑；老练
18. tap dance：踢踏舞
19. contour [?k?nt??（r）] n. 轮廓；外形
20. flicker [?fl?k?（r）] n. 闪烁，忽明忽暗
21. trot [tr?t] vi. 小跑
22. hydrant [?ha?dr?nt] n. 消防栓
23. hexagonal [?heks?ɡ?n?l] adj. 六边形的
24. bracing [?bre?s??] adj. 令人振奋的；使人心旷神怡的
25. snuff [sn?f] n. （一撮）鼻烟
26. slant [slɑ?nt] n. 倾斜；斜线
27. leg [leɡ] n. （旅行或飞行中的）一段行程
28. rectangular [rek?t??ɡj?l?（r）] adj. 长方形的
29. sleep in：睡懒觉