I absentmindedly scratch Hobbs ears who has rested his head on my knees and glance at the time displayed at the bottom right of my computer. It's time for me to go to my physiotherapy session. Seeing me leave my office, my dog thinks I'm going to take him for a walk. He goes to the leash, still in the hall, and takes it in his mouth.
“Not now my big one,” I tell him, grabbing my jacket.
He tilts his head to the side and gives me a look that contains all the misery in the world. He's an excellent actor. I could tell he's giving me cocker spaniel eyes, but I'm not sure his Labrador ego likes it. After a last caress and a promise of a walk later, I leave him and head to my car.
The ride to Doctor Mayle's only takes a minute. It takes me longer to get in and out of the car than to cover the
