The Garage Christmas: A Father, a Son, and the Dog Who Stayed

clarity.

I scooped him up. He buried his wet nose into my neck. He smelled like old wool and loyalty.

“Let’s go home, buddy,” I said.

I put him in the truck. I started the engine. The old V8 roared, drowning out the polite jazz music coming from the house.

My phone buzzed as I hit the main road. It was Ryan.

I put it on speaker.

“Dad! What the hell? Jessica continue reading …