The Other Dog

He appeared, out of the blue, on a perfectly balmy, cloudless, late summer day. I returned from yoga class to find him, standing on the porch, tail awag, greeting me as though we were old friends. He was a small dog, white, with brown markings, and seemed sweet and friendly.

My husband George emerged from the barn: “That dog showed up a few hours ago at the kitchen door,” he told me. “I let Augie out to chase him away but they played instead and he’s just been hanging around. I’ve never seen him before, have you?”