Gemotions

The dog, a golden retriever named Winston, whimpered at the sound of the doorbell. It was Mr. Abernathy, again. The note taped to the door last week clearly hadn’t worked. "Control your beast," it read. Beast? Winston was a sweet, fluffy angel!

I am so sick of this man, she thought, pushing open the door. She would show him. She hooked Winston's leash to his collar and stepped outside, the dog happily wagging his tail. She walked down the street, Winston's happy barks ringing out as they passed Mr. Abernathy’s house.