Every picture tells a story, don’t it? [from my series]

Dennis Lowery

“I don’t know,” Sam watched the sunset and didn’t look at Roy next to him. “Sometimes around this time of day… I sit here and think.”

Roy shifted to free his tail. Somehow it always ended up under his butt. “What about?”

“Like… what is life.” Sam lifted his paw toward the setting sun. “I mean, what does it all mean?” The quiet grew with the darkness, and a gentle wind picked up stirring their ears. He finally looked at Roy—he was an older and presumably wiser dog—hoping for an answer. “Do you ever wonder about this… all of this.”

Nose pointed into the breeze, sniffing but not finding anything worth sniffing, Roy stood and stretched his hind legs. “Nope.” He turned toward his home three houses from the foot of the hill they sat atop.

Sam trotted after him, though his home was in the opposite direction. “Don’t you think about anything?” Roy stopped, his mouth closed and his eyes narrowed with concentration. Then his eyebrows wriggled, which popped his mouth open again, tongue lolling out. “Bacon treats.” Yeah, he thought as he waddled down the slope. And he knew where his Mister and Missus kept them.

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