A Bark in the Park
I trotted close enough to overhear without being obvious about it.
“This one has a real kitchen,” Amaya said.
“But no space for a dog bed in the bedroom,” Alan murmured.
I perked up.
They were talking about apartments.
I already knew they weren’t staying in the studio. I’d heard the word “lease” at least three times this week. “Co-sign” was mentioned. “More closet space.” “Separate shower.” And once, whispered, “a real home.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant yet. But I knew it was good. I flopped down nearby, ears tuned in, tongue lolling just enough to look casual but alert.
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