Frenzied pounding on the front door woke me; pounding, blended with shouts to turn on the television. It wasn’t even seven in the morning yet in Washington State, and I was alone because my young SAR dog was spending a night being neutered at the emergency veterinary clinic where I worked.
Head muzzy with not enough sleep, I answered the door only to have my visitor push into my living room and flip on the television himself.
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