Herself speaks.
Elderly three-toothed dog peers out from his fluffy blanket, keeping a tight eye on me when I exercise. Each day, his face grows a bit whiter, and he seems a little more hard of hearing. Sometimes he cannot find me and wanders the house looking for me. I call for him, but he cannot always ascertain where the sound of my voice originates, and so I must put myself into his line of vision. He perks up right away and trots over to me. Mission accomplished. Mom is found.
It's a little heartbreaking, this tiny canine devotion. Bless his furry little face.
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