I looked up from my phone to see an empty yard.
Behind the shed, I thought.
That was Dakota’s favorite place to forage for forbidden foods. She’d find nuts that had been dropped by squirrels as they scrambled through the fir trees overhead. She’d sniff out droppings from the mice that ventured up from the woods nearby. She even ate dirt sometimes. Anything remotely edible. Occasionally, she’d luck out, finding a “treat” deposited on the ground the previous night by one of the neighborhood’s free-roaming cats. As the saying goes, one cat’s poop is another dog’s breakfast.