Gemotions

Eliza clenched her jaw, her knuckles white as she gripped the leash of her own, well-behaved golden retriever. Barnaby, the escape artist, was once again terrorizing her meticulously planned yard. She couldn’t let this happen. Her heart pounded as she watched the dog, his tail wagging furiously, digging under her prized rose bushes. This was an affront.

“That’s enough!” she called out, her voice sharp and clear. She was not a person who lost control, she reminded herself. But the sight of those innocent blooms being desecrated was enough to ignite a fire within.

Eliza took a purposeful step, leading her dog toward the offender, her lips set in a firm line. “He’s going back where he belongs, right now.”