A Few Slow Days at Home in April
A few slow days at home in San Marcos, mostly spent watching the dogs figure each other out. They started the morning packed into the same crate, the tan one curled up with her chin resting right on top of the other's back, both dead asleep. Whatever truce that was, it didn't survive the move to the bed.
Up there it turned into wrestling — the black-and-white one standing over her, the tan one going for the collar, back and forth across the blankets until they wore themselves out. The teal ball made it up onto the bed at some point and never left.
By afternoon the tan one had it wedged under her chin, half chewing it, half using it as a pillow, eyeing me over the top of it.