I do. I always have.  I say ‘hello’ to dogs I pass on the street, ‘good morning’ to donkeys and cows in the field, and ‘how are you?’ to the hens that rush to the fence when I arrive with food scraps.  And I wonder what they’re thinking—about their relationships with other hens and animals, what they worry about, what makes them happy.
Not really expecting a reply, my mother would always say, “What if they answered you?”
I’d be thrilled, of course.
Now, a lifetime later, I’m a granny.  Well, sort of.  But I’ll explain that later.  A book-writing granny.  As I walk my two dogs every morning, they seem to tell me stories that, for years, have been bursting to be told.  Smuggler Dogs is the first book to be born into the world.