Gemotions

"Oh, not again," I muttered, but I didn't move. The little poodle, a cloud of white fluff, was already busy inspecting my prize-winning petunias. I chuckled softly, the sound catching in my throat. I couldn't remember the last time I’d laughed so freely.

I remembered my grandmother, her face crinkling with glee when she saw a dog. The memory warmed me, like a comforting blanket. I thought about the first time I saw my own wife smiling at a dog.

I bent down and cautiously approached the pup, stroking its fluffy fur. The dog responded by wagging its tail and licking my hand.