the lives of animals

On our run this morning, two horses got loose from the farm at the top of the hill. They popped from the barn like ghosts and trotted alongside us for about twenty yards, then veered off toward another paddock. On the way back, a farmhand was trying to corral them. Chris stopped to help. When we got home, our Pomeranian went wild for the scent on her clothes, her hands. Niku stood on his hind legs, grasping Chris’ knees with his front paws, snout pressed into her palms, black tail waving like a silk handkerchief. He wouldn't let go, like he’d never known such delight. I just know he's going to want a pony now.