He looked pretty good to my brothers, too, but from the way my mother’s face was pinched,
I could tell she was thinking, Abandon this dog? Oh, I can see it. I can definitely see it.
What she said, though, was simply, “There is no room for that animal in this house.”
“Trina,” my dad said, “it’s not a matter of ownership. It’s a matter of compassion.”
“You’re not springing it on me as a… a pet, then?” “That is definitely not my intention.”
“Well, then what do you intend to do?” “Give him a decent meal, a bath… then maybe we’ll place an ad and find him a home.”
She eyed him from across the threshold. “There’ll be no ‘maybe’ about it.”
My brothers said, “We don’t get to keep him?” “That’s right.”
“But Mo-om,” they moaned. “It’s not open to discussion,” she said.
“He gets a bath, he gets a meal, he gets an ad in the paper.”
My father put one arm around Matt’s shoulder and the other around Mike’s. “Someday, boys, we’ll get a puppy.”
My mother was already heading back inside, but over her shoulder came, “Not until you learn to keep your room neat, boys!”
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