It’s been ages since he’s been. Five years, perhaps? Half his life.
He saw my grubby shoes go by the door.
I put on sunscreen.
I grabbed my keys.
I picked up the leash.
Loaded in the car, he quieted. Tongue lolling. Bracing corners. Toppling.
Just before the driveway to the parking lot.
I know, buddy, me, too.
Any guesses on this volunteer?