Monday night, or more accurately, Tuesday morning, 1:00 am. Freya paced the floor in our bedroom. Panting. She needed to go out. Again. Before going to bed, we’d let the dogs out one at a time to do their usual quick “hurry up,” and she’d wandered off into the...
At my command, Freya trotted into the basement shower. Usually, we bathe the dogs around the first of the month and let them dry on the deck. But since New Years, it’s been either too cold or wet outside, until this past Saturday. If given a choice, Freya would rather...
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