The last thing she wanted to do was to have to take care of a dog. She hated them – dogs, cats, birds, any animals, really. And yet, the happy brown puppy found its way into her garage, again.
Grumbling, she put on her snow boots, then gloves, coat, scarf, and hat. Maybe, just maybe, as she shoved the path from the garage to the mailbox, the dog might find a car to chase after and a new family to call ‘home.’
For every shovel-full of snow she tossed to the side, the puppy jumped in an attempt to eat half of it. She smiled, despite herself. Hints of her baby brother, Benny, could be seen as white powdered the brown. Always jumping up for the unnecessary, the silly, the pure joy.
“Keep it up, you won’t have no room for steak and eggs when we get back, Mutt.” She didn’t plan on having steak and eggs for breakfast, content with the usual bowl of oatmeal. But the morning seemed to warrant a change, and not because of the year on the calendar.
Who knew the new year would bring a four-footed friend she’d admit to claiming as family.