CHAPTER NINE
Thlurp.
What was that? Caleb opened his eyes. Daylight filled the room. A mass of black and gray fur stood over him.
Thlurp.
A tongue licked his cheek.
He bolted upright.
Maurice’s moist nose and his warm, smelly mouth were right in Caleb’s face.
“Morning breath is one thing.” He turned away. “But yours is toxic.”
The dog panted, looking pleased.
“At least you’re up and about. You must feel better.”
Maurice stood with his paws pressed into Caleb’s thighs.
“You’re too big to be a lapdog.”
The dog plopped down, making himself at home on top of Caleb’s legs.
“Okay,” he relented. “You can sit here for a minute. But no longer.”
“Are the boys having trouble this morning?” Becca asked.
The sound of her voice brightened his day like the first rays of sunshine through th
