Gemotions

My fingers tingled with a pleasant warmth as I planted the spring bulbs. The rhythmic thump of Buster's paws against the fence had become a familiar soundtrack to my gardening. I paused, wiping sweat from my brow, and regarded the dog’s hopeful face.

"Alright, Buster," I said, a smile pulling at my lips. "Let's get you back where you belong, shall we?" The thought of my neighbor, Mrs. Gable, and her sweet disposition always brought a smile to my face. This little ritual, this shared moment of kindness, always seemed to put a little skip in my step.