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Since moving from the frozen wastelands of Alaska to the sandy beaches of Florida, I like to take long, leisurely jogs in the morning. Sometimes I go by myself. Sometimes my daughter joins me. Usually, Molly Muffin, my eleven-pound schnauzer-poodle mix trots along beside me. Molly is a good jogging buddy because she'll sense when I am getting tired, darts ahead, and then look back at me as if to say, "Is that all you got? Come on, you big sack of lazy bones! Get going!" This morning we power-walked to a charming coastal village two miles up the road. Molly sniffed the ground, tried to chase her tail, barked at people jogging by, and relieved herself (three times). Her head was up, her nails clicked on the paved path, and her ridiculously plumed tail waved happily with each step. She was in true, dauntless Molly form. Just before we got to Miss Lucille's Gossip Parlor, a watering hole that offers pungent coffee and tasty tidbits about locals, we veered off the path a