EIGHTEEN
James sat on his bed, his back against the backboard. At the foot of the bed, Rigs was curled up tight, sound asleep, and snoring.
Attached to the backboard was a small book light with a bendable arm James used for reading. Tonight, his book was on the nightstand next to empty beer cans. The soft light from the small lamp lit the room enough so that James could watch Rigs’ chest rise and fall.
Matthew loved dogs. He loved animals. The zoo was always one of his favorite places to visit when the weather was nice. How many times had Linda begged him to get a dog? He hadn’t been raised with dogs or cats. James never understood the need until Rigs found him. Until they found each other.
James moved to the foot of the bed. Rigs’ barely stirred. He rested his head on his rump and tuc
