He looked up at her every now and then. She barely noticed him. Or so he thought. He stole glances, hoping she’d smile just for him. But then he’d look away the moment their eyes met. And curse himself mentally the next second for not having held his gaze. “Woof,” he said, soft enough to have reached no one beyond his tail’s reach. But she heard him! She turned and walked towards him. Picking him up from his litter of nine, she held him up and close, rubbing her nose into his face. “I want this one, Daddy!” she called out, rushing over to the other end of the store, holding him in her plump seven year old arms, her red and white cotton frock rubbing against his two month old skin.
‘Man’s best friend’ they called him. She would be his, though. He knew it already.
In dedication to all dogs I've said hi to! You're the unconditional love people claim doesn't exist. Polo, hope you are resting in peace. You were my first.