She hadn’t the courage to call out. She had a feeling she’d be disturbing something if she would. Even so, Elinor lowered her voice to barely-recognizable rasp and called out for her lost companion.
“Lisha! Li – sha! Here, girl.” She whistled lowly, patting her knees in hopes that the canine would hear her and come running.
Truth be told, Elinor missed the dog something terrible. If day dawned and she still hadn’t found Lisha, there was hell to be had – from both her mother and her little sister, who were avid fans of Lisha and adored that dog just as much as Elinor did.
Lisha wasn’t exactly the easiest dog to lose (but she was lost anyway).
The German Shepherd’s ear-tips brushed Elinor’s hips when the dog stood at her full height on all fours. A distinguishing splotch of white fur was placed evenly between her shoulder blades, and Elinor’s little sister, Clara, had once mentioned it looked like a heart, though it didn’t even look like one.
Point was, Elinor needed to find that dog.