Gemotions

He stared, mouth agape, at the Great Dane that was now happily chewing on his prize-winning pumpkin. His pumpkin! He'd spent weeks, *weeks*, nurturing that thing. The dog was a monument to canine freedom, a hulking beast that had apparently bypassed the fence like it wasn't even there.

"Good heavens," he breathed, his hands flying up to his cheeks. He felt a weird, giddy lightness in his chest. The dog looked up, a smear of orange decorating its jowls, and let out a single, rumbling bark that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.