Gemotions

“Not again!” she thought, but the thought wasn’t accompanied by anger. The small, black dachshund was wiggling under the fence, intent on making its way into her yard. It was a regular occurrence, and she felt a familiar flutter of something soft inside.

She remembered the elderly gentleman who owned the dog, and his visible frailty.

She walked over to the fence, carefully avoiding any sudden movements. "Hello, little one," she said, her voice soft and reassuring.

She didn’t attempt to chase the dog back. Instead, she gently coaxed it away from the fence, then helped it find its way back to its yard.