After a gruelling shift I walk down the lane in the violin-case dark to my little apartment. My footsteps quicken. I peep through the window and there they are, waiting expectantly.
They are greeted in order of seniority. Breeze (aka Tallulah Wiggles), whirls like a top waiting to be picked up. China hasn’t quite mastered the full-spin so she does a ballerina three-quarter turn.
Molly, agitated with delight, runs into the other room and picks up a toy, squeaking it excitedly. She promenades around the apartment, beeping it importantly while I prepare their late-night supper
After half an hour in the company of my pups – interesting how God is dog spelled backward – the cares of the day boil down to sediment. Often times I will…