Heron Lake Plateau the world grows older every day.

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So far, Elwood was enjoying his retirement. He didn't have any aches or pains (yet), which he attributed to the fact that he had been the opposite of Finley in his youth; while she had been off chasing bears and causing trouble, he had always walked the straight and narrow. In general, he was slowing down, but he really didn't have anything to complain about. He could patrol the borders when he felt like it, and still had enough get-up-and-go to hunt and fill the caches. And, best of all, he could relax without feeling guilty.

He was doing just that when Finley arrived: resting at the rendezvous site, stretched out on his stomach and cleaning his forepaws fastidiously with teeth and tongue. He had seen her coming from a distance, but wasn't prepared for her assault as she flung a dead pheasant at him. It hit him in the neck and plopped unceremoniously to the ground, and before he could register what was really happening, she had started to attack him with kisses.

His balance was one thing that was slowly deteriorating, so it wasn't hard for her to knock him over, and he sprawled on his side laughing. He reached around with one foreleg to grab her around the neck and wrestled her to the ground alongside him (while being careful not to put too much pressure on her sore hip). With a playful growl and an affectionate nip at the fur on her cheek, he said, "Anniversary? I'm surprised you remembered, you old fart."