Gemotions

I was planting the bulbs, preparing for spring. The cool earth felt good against my hands, the promise of flowers a welcome relief from the winter blues. Then, a shadow fell across the garden. A large, slobbering shadow.

It was Champ, the Saint Bernard. He was already investigating my carefully laid-out planting scheme. I stood up, slowly, my back protesting with a sharp twinge.

I didn’t say anything. I just stared at the dog, a cold stillness washing over me. I wanted to be alone with my garden. It was the only place I had peace.