33 of 365

There had been a rash of thefts in recent days. Homegrown vegetables had become currency, being the only means of food for most. But she had Hurley, her loyal retriever. He took possession of the garden, napping among the raised beds during the day, standing guard at night. He would patrol the surrounding fence, barking at the slightest rustle of leaves. But she had grown used to his bark. It rarely woke her now. This was a problem.