Whenever I passed by the advocate’s house in the narrow lane, their husky dog on a leash threatened to attack me. His ferocious barking took the wind out of my sails as I hurried away from the place.
The other day, as I was tiptoeing my way through the passage with a copy of The Call of the Wild in hand, my nemesis, before I knew, was at my feet, standing on his hind legs, strangely silent, looking intently at Buck’s photo on the book’s cover; then walked away without any yip. I now carry the book all the time!