Troubled Heart
He sat cross-legged beside the fireplace, arms crossed, pouting at a dog that had dared to sniff his foot.
And there were so many dogs.
Zeus, the proud corgi patriarch, trotted around like he owned the mountain house. Tinkerbell, his Leonberger mate, was never far behind, usually tucked up next to Xenia or pacing anxiously if too many loud noises happened at once. Their litter—Calliope, Aoide, Rufio, Thalia, Erato, Melete, Tootles, and my sweet Pockets—had fully turned the lodge into a fuzzy, barking, tail-wagging blur.
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