Grace lounged on the couch, watching TV with Hemingway, her sheltie. He was pulling at her socks and whimpering.
“Not now. I’m watching the news,” said Grace. She tucked her feet under her bum.
Hemingway dropped his head and whined. His eyes penetrating all attempts to be ignored. Grace tried to focus, but Hemingway slowly placed a single paw in her leg.
“Can you believe what’s going on in Paris? The world’s going crazy,” Grace said to Hemingway. The sheltie took the attention as permission to crawl into her lap. His eyes remained transfixed on his master.
Grace tried to placate him with a few halfhearted strokes. “It’s scary,” she said watching the latest details of death and mayhem.
Hemingway crept up her lap until his nose nudged her chin. His touch tickled her.
“You’re not gonna leave me alone, are you?” she said, looking at her puppy. He responded by licking her nose.
Grace grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “You’re right. Cuddling always makes things feel better.”