Comet

My suspicion kindled. "You young people. You're doing that Bird Box challenge, aren't you?"

She frowned. “Bird Box?”

“When you blindfold yourself and then do something stupid. Tell me the truth,” I said, gesturing at Comet. “Did you do this blindfolded?”

The groomer shook her head, her stubborn silence adding fuel to my fury. She glanced at the dog as if he would back her up in some way, but I could tell he was beginning to get the idea. He was starting to understand that, despite his excellent breeding, he currently looked like a mangey pavement special. I wondered if I should get him a cone for his neck so that he wouldn't have to witness this new, burning humiliation. We'd cancel our plans. We'd stay at home until he felt less ashamed of his awful appearance. Poor boy.

© 2021 Fire Finch Press (Hljóðbók): 9781667043340

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Hljóðbók: 18 augusti 2021