Gemotions

The pounding in Leo’s chest was almost musical. He’d slept well, surprisingly well, and felt like he could run a marathon. He heard it: the familiar frantic scratching. He bounded to the back door, practically tripping over his own feet. "Buster!" he called, his voice booming.

He was already halfway across the yard when he saw the dog, halfway through the gate. He changed his plan. No point chasing him. He grinned.

He decided to go over to the neighbor’s house, figuring he could catch Buster on the way. He jumped the fence and rang the doorbell, his knuckles rapping hard against the wood. He was eager to offer to help.