A black dog

A black dog padded quietly along the edge of the park, its coat shining like polished ink in the afternoon sun. When it ran, the fur rippled, catching light in soft waves; when it stopped, it listened with bright, curious eyes. The dog loved puddles and leaves, the smell of rain, and the way a thrown stick cut a clean arc through the air. At home, it curled into a warm comma by the door, guarding the house with gentle patience. Loyal and playful, the black dog carried joy in its wagging tail and comfort in its steady presence, turning ordinary days into something brighter just by being there.