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“As soon as he entered the house, Bryson dropped to his haunches and held his arms out for Bella, the sable and white papillon who had been abandoned at one of the clinics where he'd done his clinical rotation. She jumped into his arms, gave him the required lick on the chin, then started barking up a storm. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Bryson said, smoothing down the hair on her butterfly-shaped ears. "I told you it was going to be a long night." He plucked a treat from the jar he kept on the table next to the door. He had another in the kitchen and in his bedroom, because if there was one certainty in this house, it was that Bella would get her treats.” — Farrah Rochon
As soon as he entered the house, Bryson dropped to his haunches and held his arms out for Bella, the sable and white papillon who had been abandoned at one of the clinics where he'd done his clinical rotation. She jumped into his arms, gave him the required lick on the chin, then started barking up a storm.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Bryson said, smoothing down the hair on her butterfly-shaped ears. "I told you it was going to be a long night."
He plucked a treat from the jar he kept on the table next to the door. He had another in the kitchen and in his bedroom, because if there was one certainty in this house, it was that Bella would get her treats.