McKettrick's Pride
THE DOG, FUR SOAKED, MATTED and muddy, sat for-lornly on the rain-slicked pavement, next to Echo Wells's custom-painted hot-pink Volkswagen bug. Echo, rushing from the truck-stop restaurant with the remains of her supper in a take-out box, in hopes of not getting too wet before she reached her car, stopped cold.
"I do not need a dog," she told the universe, tilting back her head and letting the drizzle wash away the last tired traces of her makeup.
The dog whimpered. It was a large creature, of indeterminate color and breed. A slight indentation around its neck revealed that it had once worn a collar, and its ribs showed. One forepaw bore the brownish stain of old blood.
"Oh, hell," Echo said. She glanced around the parking lot, empty except for a few semitrucks and an ancient RV, but there was no one in sight, no one conveniently searching for a missing pet.
The dog had obviously been on its own for days, if not weeks—or even months.
Just imagining the loneliness, fear and depriva-tion the poor thing must have experienced made Echo shudder and opened a gaping chasm of sympathy within her.
The canine wayfarer had either been d ... read full excerpt from: McKettrick's Pride ebook
