Now that I’m again safely ensconsed in my office and seated at my desk, the golden retriever’s work of exuberant greeting and following from room to room is done. So he’s sleeping soundly on the floor behind me. The pound hound, a guy who prefers the outdoors even though (short-haired and prone to shivering) he has to wear a big blue blanket-jacket, wanders in and out of view. Meanwhile, we girls are busy. I at my work (or soon to return to it, I promise), and the retriever-setter mix industriously tearing a tennis ball into its smallest bits. The trick, I see, is peeling off the fuzzy outer layer to get to the rubbery material that must I repeat must be rendered into centimeter-sized pieces. Whatever your work, rest, or wandering, may yours be a satisfying day, too.
