At the end of the day, Talli makes one last inspection of the field, jumps on the golf cart with Nabozny and takes the elevator up to the stadium parking garage. She snoozes on the way home —dreaming perhaps of hot dogs, bubble gum left by players in the outfield, and the woman seated next to her, stroking her head. Talli needs her rest, because tomorrow, like the Bullmastiffs of a century ago, she has work to do.