It was a perfect early summer day in Minnesota, warm and clear with a wisp of breeze, the sort of day that we northern fliers will be dreaming of when the snow flies - right about the time you're reading this. I relaxed on our back deck, savoring my morning coffee and watching our dog, Piper, run around the grassy yard with Chai, my sister's poodle that we were dog-sitting. My schoolteacher wife, Dawn, lay contentedly in the sun, deep into the first novel of her summer vacation. "What should we do today?" I asked without expecting much of an answer. Dawn thought for a second and cocked one eye up from the book. "Let's take the dogs to the beach. Is there anywhere that we can fly?" I knew there was a reason I married that girl.
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