“He looks just like Uncle Harry.” Matt wanted to adopt him. Keep him out of lock-up. He was sure the dog was his shifty uncle come back to life. The eyebrows, Airedale, even Groucho. A born player, the dog flipped on its stomach and begged for attention.
Matt’s sister said, “Then that one is Grandma.” In the corner of the room, a dog growled like Grandma getting started on a lecture. She had the family eyebrows.
“Two, is that too many?” They both looked at Mom.
“Mama and Harry never got along, so yes.”
