Behind her sparkling golden eyes, Vannon’s sharp mind composed a list of attributes she was seeking.

As she jogged easily through the neighborhood, her muscles rippling, she thought about how to find the perfect companion for her adventures. Heads turned as she passed; she was built like the proverbial brick outhouse.

She was also a Viszla–a beautiful golden dog. She also lacked a leash or supervising human. She was a runaway.

Having vaulted the backyard fence, Vannon had taken it upon herself to find someone to walk her. Her owner couldn’t, because of health reasons. Vannon needed someone strong. Someone who liked the outdoors. Someone who liked and understood dogs.

Someone gullible.

The woman riding the navy blue road bicycle immediately dismounted and called, “Hey, doggie! Where do you belong? Does your mom know you’re loose?”

It was as though a neon sign was emblazoned on the woman’s forehead: “Pushover!”

Vannon assessed the woman’s legs. “Not as good as mine,” she concluded, “but she MIGHT be able to keep up.”

As luck (and the Divine) would have it, the cyclist–who happened to be named Kim Dinell–needed a place to park her gorgeous van, the Kimpod. The neighbors of her deed-restricted community were not impressed by its sexy lines; they were all hung up on its size and the fact that “motor homes” were not allowed. Boooo. Hissss.

Vannon’s owner, Lucy, thought the Kimpod was adorable. She was THRILLED at the prospect of trading Kim parking privileges in exchange for daily Vannon walks. (These, for the first five trips, were actually RUNS. Long a prisoner of her yard, Vannon at first proved to be a “diamond in the RUFF!”)

Did Vannon KNOW when she took flight over the fence that fateful day that her “sole-mate” running partner lived just through the trees and was in desperate need of a solution to her Kimpod problem? That a symbiotic relationship was waiting to be forged?

If so, she’s not gonna tell. Dogs are that way.