After I greeted the younger dogs, I stepped away and lifted my nose higher. Even the Air smelled full of possibilities. I smelled a lot of water, somewhere, more than I'd ever seen or smelled in a bowl. I smelled other dogs, and different animals, too: a squirrel that chatered on top of the fence, another animal-Bigger, heavier, smellier-that had passed by outside the fence a few nights ago.

The man walked by me and opened the door of our cage to let my mother out. My brothers and sisters all rushed over to her, but I'd found a dead worm beneath my feet, and for the moment that was much more interesting.

The man left again, banging the gate shut behind him.

The gate. . .

My gaze focused on the doorknob.

There was a wooden table along the fence next to the gate, with a stool in front of it. I trotted over. The stool was low enough for me to claw my way up onto it. From there, it was only a quick jump-and-scramble to the top of the table.

There were empty food bowls on the table and a bag that smelled quite interesting. If my stomach had not been full, I might have been content to chew that bag open and munch on whatever was inside.