The Man Behind the Pinstripes (2013)
“What was that? Caleb opened his eyes. Daylight filled the room. A mass of black and grey fur stood over him.
Thlurp.
A tongue licked his cheek.
He bolted upright.
Maurice’s moist nose and his warm, smelly mouth were right in Caleb’s face.
“Morning breath is one thing.” Caleb turned away. “But yours is toxic.”
The dog panted, looking pleased.
“At least you’re up and about,” Caleb said. “You must feel better.”
Maurice stood on top of him. His paws pressed into Caleb’s thighs.
“You’re too big to be a lap dog.”
The dog didn’t listen. He plopped down, making himself at home on top of Caleb’s legs.
“Okay,” he relented. “You can sit here for a minute. But no longer.”
“Are the boys having trouble this morning?”
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