It’s been one year since Dax (a little black and white rat terrier that has the knack of giving you a side-eye glance which makes you believe it’s all YOUR fault that she pooped on the floor, not hers), appeared at our house and begged for a spoonful of gruel or a slice of roast beef if you have it, please.
“No, little doggie. Go away. We are cat people here, can’t you smell? ...