Leashed (Going to the Dogs)
“Unfortunately, both dogs had fallen asleep on the back seat, so he couldn’t be distracted with making sure they behaved. As they approached the I-95 North exit, he said, “Tell me about Lassiter Run.” His voice came out sounding a little desperate, demanding. He shifted in his seat and inwardly groaned.
She glanced at him before she merged onto I-87 and smiled. “Next to the City, it’s the best place on earth.”
All of his childhood had been spent in the City and some of those years were with his dysfunctional mother. When she left one day and didn’t return, he was a lost boy, wandering mean streets as he tried to survive. But his great aunt had never stopped looking for him and rescued him. Even with all his travels as an adult, he hadn’t seen much of the rest of New York State.
“Lassiter Run sits on about thirty acres. We have twelve kennels and nine dog yards, along with puppy runs we use to segregate the older dogs from the little ones. We exclusively breed Danes of all colors.
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