by Jacki Skole
“Dog, you get dumber by the day.”
I lift my head from my book. Kevin
is standing in the middle of our backyard talking to Galen. She is several
yards away on a small island of black mulch that circles a tree near where our
yard ends and our neighbor’s begins. Galen’s purple ball—it looks like an
oversized kettle bell—rests on the ground in front of her. She picks it up
Published on September 27, 2015 00:00