PAWS FOR THOUGHT

SUSAN raised her glass of wine. “To Arthur,” she said. “May he rest in peace.”

“To Arthur,” Mark replied and raised his glass too. “Fifteen years old. Not bad for a dog.”

Susan and Mark clinked glasses then Mark slid his arm around his wife’s shoulders. They sat in silence for a while until Susan shifted in her seat.

“It’s going to be strange when four o’clock comes and we don’t have to take Arthur for his walk.”

“There are going to be a lot of changes we’ll have to get used to,” Mark said.

“No more vet’s bills,” Susan said. “Not that I’m complaining. I would’ve spent my last penny if I thought it would have helped ease his pain.”

“You’ll never guess what Mom said when I told her Arthur had finally gone to the kennel in