Brigit
Brigit had felt sorry for the old dog who’d tried to romance her. He might once have been a little Latin lover, barking ay-yi-yi and having his pick of the pound, but those days were well behind him now. And while she hadn’t been interested in his overtures, she was nonetheless flattered he’d found her attractive.
When Megan had tossed her a second liver treat after they’d returned to the house, Brigit caught it midair and carried it over to the dog, dropping it in front of him. He didn’t seem to notice, just stared blindly ahead, his mouth hanging open slightly as he exhaled a wheezy breath.
He’s going to need a little help, isn’t he?
She’d put a paw on top of his head and gently pushed down until his nose was close enough to the treat that he could smell it. Unassisted, he reached his head the rest of the way down, picked up the treat with the two teeth he had left, and gobbled it down. He lifted his head and wagged his tail to thank Brigit for sharing.
She’d wagged hers in return. Anytime, little guy.