It took fifteen minutes to get back to the car, because Peter had to stop and pet every dog they saw. Then Peter insisted on digging his camera out of his bag and taking Caleb’s picture in front of the car. Caleb never wanted to see what his face looked like in that photograph, never wanted to know whether he looked as exasperatedly fond as he felt. The best he could hope for was that he’d at least never have to encounter proof about how far gone he was.
