Two weeks had been all that took before her doorbell chimed.
It woke her up from a deep yet restless slumber. Still half-asleep, grumpy as all hell, she got up out of bed, put on a bra under her pajama shirt, her bathrobe, and slippers, and made her way to the front door. Her ever-faithful dog, Pluto, stood at the door growling and barking at the person ringing her doorbell at the crack of dawn on a Friday.
“Move boy. Gotta open the door.” The 130 lb. Great Pyrenees very reluctantly moved out of her way but stayed pressed to her side as she swung open the door.