Gemotions

My garden was a picture of serenity. I surveyed the scene, the hydrangeas in full bloom, the perfectly trimmed hedges, the silent fountain. And then, there was that dog. The escape artist of the neighborhood, joyfully wreaking havoc among the lavender. I knew, the moment I saw the new doghouse, that it would be a disaster.

I took another sip of my iced tea. The delicate porcelain felt cool in my hand. I had, of course, a fence that could withstand any canine assault. It was the best, in all respects.

I could see Mr. Peterson's face – a mixture of exasperation and defeat. The scene was almost amusing.