Chapter 8: ErinErin’s foot was still swollen on Sunday, but she’d unearthed the crutches she’d gotten three years ago and managed to make her and Max’s breakfast without any issues. She’d just sat down to grade some papers when Max gave a low short whine, his usual sign he needed to go out. Sure enough, he was sitting by the front door, waiting.
“All right, all right, I get it.”
Forcing her foot into a sneaker was no small feat and it had her both sweating and swearing in equal measure. It didn’t help that Max’s usual patience was wearing thinner by the minute. Getting the crutches in the car was no joy, either.
Erin drove to their usual spot by the river where she let Max take care of business as well as sniff and explore for a good fifteen minutes. He came back every so often to where
