She said that she loved animals, she loved dogs. She talked about her dog all the time. She loved her dog. As long as he behaved. A big sootish one with a giant mouth and loud, deep barks. He was the kind of dog you walked away from, your gait quick and light-footed, like when you’re facing a bathroom emergency. But all he really wanted was for you to throw, as far as you could, stick after stick after stick. He was a tireless enthusiast of play and people. She — Nancy — also had two cats. Also gray. They didn’t talk much and didn’t ask for much. But then, cats are libertarians. She called the dog Swat.
Marriage Isn’t Always Greener
The bar had a grandiose name. Also, imposing wooden doors, like those you'd imagine in front of a sturdy barn. No windows, either, just brick face for a colonial feel. But inside was a different
Continue reading →