The puppy was so little, its thoughts focused on the moment, not remembering what had gone past or—well, it was much like most dogs, really. Only littler. And it was already scared of her. But it had to be done. Ginny came in to feed the dogs then, placing two bowls down on the floor, one with more kibble in it than the other. Penny’s ears flicked forward, alert, as she stared past Georgie’s shoulder at the puppy, who had put his entire face into his bowl and was chewing away happily. Food calmed. A puppy with food in its belly would be sleepy and not-scared. Georgie nosed at her own food, then looked sideways at Penny. “He’s only a puppy.” “I’m not going to bite him,” Penny said. The tip of her tail twitched, but she kept it from lashing: Georgie was upset enough already, her protective instincts engaged. It was . . . reasonably cute, she supposed.
