Man’s best friend. Bitsy feels like she has walked into a trap… #thegone #amwriting
The scream dies leaving an intense silence. The dog has lunged forward but not to attack, instead he is planting puppy kisses all over Conor.
“What is it?” I ask.
The mutt is large, easily the size of a Rottweiler but he is covered in a thick mat of hair. His tail is a bushy creation and he seems to have a mane. He is mostly black and tan but there is a flash of white under his chin and on his chest. He is beautiful but very big.
“Some sort of large dog,” Max says.
He steps toward Conor and the dog gives a low growl. He stops.
“Conor, does he have a collar?” I ask.
“I’ll look,” comes the reply and I can hear the smile in his voice.
Max walks up to me and whispers in my ear. “Guess we have found a dog…”
“Yeah,” I say…
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