“Wow,” I said, feeling a sudden frisson. “That’s funny. We have a chihuahua that looks exactly like Bruiser Woods.” I pulled out my phone, and showed her a picture of our fawn-colored chihuahua, Joni. When we’d adopted her six months ago, she’d charmed us. She had an outgoing and sweet personality; in spite of the fact she’d been rescued from a house teeming with thirty chihuahuas breeding and vying for food. We were told she was about four, and had almost certainly had at least one litter. One of the people at the adoption agency had assured us, “She really knows how to work a room.”
“I’ll text you,” Breanna said just as the theater went dark for Act Two.
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