The sight of Sparky running around the room trying to get the attention of everyone there. I was starting to think I should just drive to the local police station and let them deal with the situation. “Morning Gary,” said the voice on the phone. “I’m making chicken tomorrow,” Pam started as I was walking out the door, “It’s Doug’s favorite.”
“Left over stew would be fine with me,” I shouted back. Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later the front door opened and a young woman walked in. While walking the pup, Doug had relaxed his grip on the leash and the puppy broke free. I’ll have to keep him here for another day or two.”
Doug’s mom stood up and pulled back the hood of her jacket revealing her long blonde hair. We were outside the door of Doug’s bedroom. The dog was still shivering and relatively unresponsive. “Sparky!” Doug exclaimed, “It’s Sparky.”
I led Doug back to the car and put him back in the front seat with the puppy on his lap.