Cache rushed through his morning chores in the Canine Club, getting all the volunteer lists over to Amber by eight so walks could happen. Baths. Visits. The vet techs would be through buildings five and six that day to take care of any needs there, and Cache had everyone fed and watered by ten.
He’d have to go back after the cow cuddling session with Karla, which was fine. He liked his work with the dogs, and today, he decided to take several of his off-leash pups with him to the pasture.
“Come on, guys,” he said, the six dogs that could handle leaving the Club trotting along with him. Every once in a while, a dog would get too far out of line, and Cache would whistle him back.
They all arrived at the pasture with their tongues hanging out—except Cache—and he opened the gate to let them
