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around and hugged me. A deep hug, like he used to give
me...before we changed.

Chapter 3
     
     
    Hanna
    My arms pulled in multiple directions, my
feet keeping pace. Three canines trotted alongside me as I filled
my job duties for the day.
    Five dogs….number one Poo Poo the Pom he
only had to be let out to pee on days when his owner notified me
via text. Always my first stop because his bladder was the size of
a golf ball. His owner was a flight attendant who had no business
owning a dog with her schedule. She had originally wanted me to
walk him. Poo Poo, aptly named because he left Tootsie Roll size
poop deposits around her house, dawdled on walks preferring to be
carried. Poo Poo’s house was a stop where I let him out to pee on
my other client visits. Number two Bowzer a hundred pound
Rottweiler mix was a beach walk. I liked Bowzer. Nothing messed
with Bowzer. Only I knew that he was a big softie. Number three and
four, Romeo and Juliet, two Brittany spaniels that were crazy
hyper. They accompanied me and their friend Bowzer on said beach
walk. Number five Sox an old Golden Retriever. Sox got special
time, alone full on attention.
    Bowzer strutted along deceiving people with
a misplaced stereotype. Romeo and Juliet practically danced down
the sidewalk.
    After traversing the boardwalk we stopped to
smell - me the salty, wet air of the ocean, them the stench of the
overflowing trash receptacles and occasional dead fish, cormorants
and sea turtles. I trailed the pack, reflective heat of the sun was
beaming into my scalp, my long dark brown hair saturating the rays,
my skin absorbing the warmth. I half jogged, half loped down the
beach. Different leg heights didn’t allow for a true run.
    We reached a hulking piece of driftwood.
Once it had been an impressive tree, now only the trunk remained
thick and leached in a muted shade of gray from the elements. The
dogs sniffed excitedly, stopping only to lavish me with kisses but
when I didn’t join in on their explorations, they grew bored and
scratched the hot surface sand away to lie in the cool damp
beneath.
    The walk back was slower, the pink shell
sand a soft struggle for my feet. The dogs all knew that their fun
time was over for the day. Romeo and Juliet had elderly owners who
couldn’t do more than let them out the back door for “potty time”
as they called it. Bowzer belonged to Clay, a young bar manager who
worked twelve hour shifts. I dropped off all of them at their
houses and went to Sox.
    Letting myself in my old friend did no more
than wag his tail and lift his head from where the evening sun
glinted inside his domain.
    “How was your day?” I stroked his ears and
with mopey old eyes, he replied that his day was uneventful except
for the Amazon package the UPS delivery man left out front. Lifting
Sox’s hind legs, I eased his arthritic hips up and led him to the
back door. Sliding down to sit leaning against the back stucco of
the house I obliterated myself behind a giant Azalea bush.
    One quality I loved about Sox was he no
longer cared about marking his territory. He hiked a hind quarter
on the side of the deck, or shakily squatted and deposited behind a
prickly Sago Palm. Then he gently returned to where he sat
dutifully beside me, behind my flower bush. We cuddled and Sox
absorbed my sadness.
     
    Movers were loading my remaining possessions
based on my instructions. They were meeting me at a storage
facility, one on the other side of the city. The monthly rent was
cheaper there and the chances of anyone I knew spotting me
slim.
    Gator was staring them down, waiting me out.
If Gator could have talked, he would have explained to these guys
why they were only moving a bed with a mattress, couch and
bric-a-brac out of a near empty house. He would have told them that
I had hocked almost anything of value at a local pawn shop and sold
the rest in an “everything must go” yard sale last year.
    One of the moving crew reached down to pat
the dog’s head.