The Usual Suspects in San Marcos
The usual suspects were at it again this morning — both dogs parked on the kitchen tile, staring up like nobody has ever fed them in their lives. They followed me from the dining table to the counter and back, tails going, convinced something was about to happen.
It escalated the way it always does. First the polite sit at a distance, then the slow creep closer, then a nose pushed straight up at my face. The little one finished it off with both paws on me, tongue out, all pretense of dignity gone.
Nothing was actually on offer. They didn't care.