Packs Come in All Sizes

The dog, concentrating, joyous, grabs the ball floating on the water and swims furiously back towards shore with it in her mouth, her brown head poking out of the swells. 

Katie, watching with me on the beach, tells me the story she saw on TV about the dog that worked on the dolphin-watching boat that had its own pod of dolphins it would swim with.

"Dogs love packs," I say, as the dog bounds through the shore break to her master, wet fur bedraggled, grinning around a mouthful of ball, tail wagging, as happy as she's ever/always been.

"Even it's only a pack of two," Katie agrees.