When Serena opened the door to Griffin, he looked right past her at first. “You did get a dog!”
“No, of course not, this is a practice dog. Meet Boingo, he belongs to Betsy at the Depot. She’s away for a few days and I’m dog sitting.”
“Hello, Boingo.” Griffin bent to pat Boingo’s head. Covered with a coat of snow white curls, with the ability to bounce a good three feet into the air, he was like a canine version of a beach ball and definitely not an artist-studio appropriate dog.
“I’m in the research process, still learning about all the different breeds,” she told him as she twined her fingers through Boingo’s soft coat. “What do you think, Maltese or Great Dane?”
He smiled. She noticed that his face looked drawn, with shadows in his eyes. Melting snow spattered across his jacket. “Th
