Ode to Brandy

She waits.
She anticipates.
It’s been more than eight hours.
The sound of keys jiggling the lock open fills her with excitement.
From the bedroom to the front door, she runs.
It’s her time now.
The door opens.
She stands, waiting.
She stares at him.
“Hey, how was your day?” he asks.
No reply.
“I bet it was good. What’d you do?” he asks again.
No reply.
The silence is sweet.
No words are necessary.
The tail waggle says it all.