Gemotions

My stomach twisted as I read the letter. Mr. Henderson wanted to put up a six-foot privacy fence. He had every right, of course. His dog barked incessantly, and I knew how disruptive that could be. But the image of his aged, arthritic dog, Buster, confined to the back yard, made me feel… heavy.

I imagined Buster's limited space becoming even more limited. He loved to roam. He thrived on interacting with the world. I pictured his sad, brown eyes looking out at a wooden wall.

I thought about his daily strolls through the neighborhood, the way he greeted everyone. I hesitated, then went to my front door to grab Buster’s favorite treat. I had to talk to Mr. Henderson.