The Chair He Bought, The Dog They Tried to Take, and the Choice

He couldn’t have been more than thirty. He was wearing a faded band t-shirt and had sleeves of tattoos running down both arms. To some, he might have looked rough.

He didn’t look at the woman. He looked at Barnaby.

He knelt down on one knee, ignoring the “shedding,” and gently placed a hand on Barnaby’s head. Barnaby, who usually fears strangers, leaned continue reading …