Buddy Glee

A golden retriever perched on a sun‑warmed porch, ears perked like satellite dishes awaiting the next biscuit drop. The tail thumps a rhythmic thud against the wooden floorboards, echoing the lazy summer breeze that rustles the nearby potted lavender. Each hopeful glance captures the soft glow of morning light bouncing off his glossy coat, promising endless snack‑time anticipation.

Reading trades.