THE. END PLEASE MAKE SEASON 2

I trotted past the bustling park paths and stepped onto the soft green clover beneath the low branches of the weeping willow. The dappled shade was cool and undisturbed. Rather than surveying the border or nudging scattered pinecones into lines, I let my front paws sink into the mossy turf and dropped down onto my plush belly. A smooth, warm pebble rested by my paw, and overhead, gentle leaves swayed in quiet rhythms. I closed my eyes and simply listened to the breeze rustling through the boughs. Duty can wait; recess has begun.