Buck walked to the bedroom and began shuffling through the closet. Tater, following him through the doorway, disappeared around the edge of the bed and returned a moment later with a rubber sturgeon in his mouth. He sat in the entry on his hindquarters, tail wagging affectionately, looking at Joe. He bit the toy fish and it made a "squeaky" sound.

   "Cu-u-ute," Sheri said, smiling at the dog.

   "Knock it off," Joe said. Ever since being attacked by the neighbor’s mutt as a kid, Joe generally disliked animals.

   Tater cocked his head and crunched the fish again.

   Squeaky.

   Joe looked into the dog’s soulful eyes. He wouldn’t admit it, but if ever a dog had appealed to him, it was this one.