Greg and I were in Illinois over the weekend, and Abe and Winston stayed at the kennel, although it’s actually called a pet resort. That’s right. They are completely spoiled.
I brought them home this morning and got ready for work. I gathered my purse and keys and walked to the door that leads into the garage. Usually, Abe tries to leave when I do, but he seemed tired, and hung back in the living room. Winston, however, charged to the door.
Winston is scared to death of the sound of the garage opening. It makes his hair stand on end. Furthermore, when Winston is in the car he lets loose a miserable opera of howls. But despite having arrived home just 30 minutes earlier, he seemed eager to once again brave both the garage door and the car so that he could head to the office with me. It was the greatest act of devotion he has ever displayed.