Neither approached the dock.
They walked parallel to the water along a grassy path. River kept his body between Noah and the lake without being trained to do so.
At the place where he had dragged Noah ashore, the dog stopped.
He smelled the grass.
The tree roots.
The waterline.
Then he sat.
Noah lowered himself beside him.
“I’m not going in today.”
River leaned against his shoulder.
The family remained there for five minutes and left.
On later visits, they moved closer. River eventually placed both front paws in the shallows, lifted them immediately, and shook water across Noah’s pants.
Noah laughed.
That sound closed no wound.
It simply created another memory beside it.
