Dog treat

In an old building with a few other offices, there is one office I call mine. I’m retired from work but I keep this room to write, drink coffee, and consider the human predicament. I am grateful for the quiet of this space. I do have one regular visitor, a big yellow dog from down the hall. She sits and stares at me, begging for a doggy treat, and she won’t leave until I give it to her. Happily, I have a supply from the drugstore across the street. She eats quickly, turns, and is gone, never overstaying her welcome.