Oliver
“Come on, girl. Why have you got to do this to me? Haven't I treated you right?"
“Woof."
Dottie wriggled her bottom enthusiastically as she looked up with picture perfect innocence in her dark eyes. She gave no apparent care to the fact she'd tangled up both my legs with her leash.
Oh, I'm going to end up right on my ass this way.
Visions of Dottie jerking me off my feet in the snow danced through my head, each more drastic than the last. Dottie surged toward a new scent. My knees wobbled, but I managed to stay on my feet.
I danced in a few circles, untangling the leash like a giant viking ballerina's impromptu interpretive dance.
I'll call this production The Dance of the New Puppy. Children will spread it everywhere. It will be the next big Broadway play. I'll have to teac
