Coonhounds and Pillows

[dropcap]C[/dropcap]ome in here Sean, and look at this spoiled little %*tch on your pillow,” Jamie says.

“Oh my God,” I say.

I stroke Ellie Mae’s silken black fur in rapturous affection. Generations of faultless breeding have built her into a four legged homage to the dog.

“It doesn’t bother you that she’s drooled all over your pillow?” Jamie asks.

“Well, um, that’s not my pillow,” I say. “I hid MY pillow in the closet.”


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