The autumn sun had turned the sky over the roofline a deep copper.

Rex and Tank were barking by the wooden deck steps, their heavy tails thumping on the grass as Matty pulled a yellow tennis ball out of his jacket pocket.

“Throw it past the tool shed, Matty,” I called from the edge of the porch.

He pulled his arm back and sent the rubber ball bouncing across the green lawn toward the pines.

Both dogs tore off across the yard side by side, their heavy paws kicking up little clumps of turf as they chased the yellow ball into the shade.