Friday has a way of softening the edges of the week. Everything ordinary—hallway light, scuffed floor, the quiet pause before plans—feels a little more forgiving.
Harry doesn’t care what day it is, of course. He just knows the small rituals: sit close, settle in, let the world move around us for a minute. He stretched out across my lap like he belonged there (like he always has), and I caught myself smiling at how quickly a room can feel warmer with a dog in it.
There’s something comforting about these simple, almost forgettable snapshots. A peace sign and a tired grin. A white coat against denim. The kind of moment that doesn’t announce itself as important until later, when you’re looking back and realize it was.
We didn’t do anything remarkable. We just hung out. But in the quiet way the week finally exhales, it was enough. Harry’s calm weight, the steady patience in his eyes, and that brief feeling that time slowed down just to let us be still.
If your Friday found you running hard, I hope you get a small pocket of rest. And if you’ve got a Harry nearby, give him a little extra room on your lap.
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