Juliette’s newly adopted dog keeps running off, and she thinks it may be her fault. Miracle is an elderly uncle of the foster family she’s living with.
“Why does he keep running away?” My voice sounding pathetic even to my own ears.
Miracle didn’t look up from whatever he was doing. “Who says he ran away?”
What a crazy question. “Well, he isn’t here, is he? Of course he ran away.”
Miracle glanced up at me for a second. Then he picked up one of the red sticks and began cutting it into small sections with a wicked looking knife. I backed to the far side of the deck. The red sticks looked an awful lot like dynamite. “What are you doing, Miracle?”
He cackled and waved the remainder of the stick around. “Just getting ready for some fishing. But let’s get back to your dog.” He looked at me then, and his face became serious. “Dog’s aren’t like folks. Just cause they like to go off on their own every once in awhile, without telling anyone their plans, don’t mean they’re running away. Shoot, dogs love to explore. And they don’t always understand limits such as yards or property lines, or time. They pick up on a scent, and they just gotta follow their nose.”
“Tabitha doesn’t run off.” I flinched when he cut off another chunk of dynamite. “Is that safe?”
Miracle smiled when he looked up. “Safe as a mother’s arms, for now.” He held it up and pointed to one end. “Haven’t put the fuses in yet.”