Sunday, February 8, 2026, 7.4* F, 57% RH, 0706
Zsolt sits beside the bed watching the hall while I get dressed tail sweeping the rug like a windshield wiper. I remain behind glass as the three pass through the portal. Soleil awakens gray sky. Snow vanished on radar before reaching us.
Past the fence, last night, last call, I could see only eyes watching me, watching the three who didn’t bark. They watched. Zayne bounced like a jack-in-the-box. He acts the same way when he sees me coming toward him with his food dish, knows I won’t set it down until he sits.
As I prepare breakfast, three glass dishes lined up (two pie plates, one bowl) Zayne sits beside me, Ruger paces talking looking up. I wonder when someone will nudge a bowl into the sink. Zsolt swarms around the island going round and round silent. When I pick up Ruger’s plate, he walks me to his table, so I don’t forget the way. The giants assume their places, wait. Zsolt drools bubbles waiting to hear “release.”
There is peace in knowing.
Photo: LJ Austin
