Supper was spaghetti. “I wasn’t in the mood to do anything fancy,” Neil explained.
“That’s fine with me. You do simple, I’ll handle the gourmet cooking,” Kev told him with a wink, giving him a hug.
As soon as they finished eating, Neil got Argyle’s leash and they began their walk. They were at the end of the block, with the dog sniffing everything in sight, when a little boy came dashing out of his yard.
“Can I pet? Can I?”
“You sure may,” Neil replied at the same time the boy’s mother said, “Bobby, get back here or it’ll bite you.” The boy did.
“She’s very friendly,” Kev said, crouching beside Argyle.
“She’s looks like one of those fighting dogs,” the woman responded doubtfully.
“The only fight she’s been in was trying to survive when whoever used to own her tied her up and left he
