Rose seems to have changed since we decided to bring sheep back to the farm. She is focused, waiting. There is much about dogs that I do not yet understand, but one thing I know: Rose knows me, and reads me. She is less playful, and sits watching the pasture. Maybe she overhears Maria and I talking about sheep. Maybe she can pick it up from my emotions, glances. I don’t know. But I think she knows they are coming back.