Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the lawn as Sarah watched Mr. Henderson, sweat beading on his forehead, wrestle with the first post of the fence. He’d announced his intentions weeks ago, and she, initially a bit apprehensive about the perceived loss of open space, found herself smiling. He was putting it up to keep his rambunctious golden retriever from escaping.

Her hand drifted to her own small dog, Max, who wagged his tail expectantly. The previous week, Max had gotten loose chasing a squirrel and given her a scare. It was a frightening experience.

"Need a hand, Mr. Henderson?" she called, hurrying across the grass, her heart light. She wouldn't have to worry about Max anymore.