I was at the "heinzie" way-station, again, to drop off rescued bassets. Allie was there, at the door, to greet the bassets.
Allie's picture at the pen door says it all. Standing, above the pack, paws up, eager to welcome to see what's new; bright, focused, engaged eyes and body; no holding back.
I sat on the bench. She seemed to make a point of coming to me, to greet me, and, though she hung around to the side of me, allow me to pet her. She remembered me.
Joy engendered does not go deeper.