She freezes the moment she hears her name, ears up and eyes wide like she just got caught in the middle of a secret mission. It doesn’t matter how quietly I whisper it — she always knows. There’s something magical about how dogs recognize their name better than we recognize our own purpose some days.
She waits, tail twitching, wondering if she should come closer or pretend she didn’t hear it. That little hesitation, that spark of mischief in her eyes, is what makes her so fun to be around. She’s playful, smart, and just dramatic enough to keep things interesting.
And even when I “lose” the game by saying her name out loud, I can’t be mad. Because the way she trots over, proud of herself, makes losing feel like winning.
