’ That Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, was among the last good thing I had in this ugly world, my prize and joy, Rosemary. I had got her when I was ...ourteen, after my first dog, Spot died from old age, after several long months of heavy grieving. ‘How you doing?’ Her eyes growing bigger, the whites in her eyes enlarged, she nuzzled against my arm and began to push it up in obvious demand of my attention. I reached down and picked her up, holding her close to my chest and kissing the top of her. The girl’s body really. I didn’t even know her real name, and didn’t particularly care what it was.She’d been a whore, working off a corner on 14th Street. Not anyone that mattered, not for a long time. Maybe she’d mattered once, to somebody. I wasn’t really sure of that, but she wouldn’t much matter to anyone ever again.It wasn’t even a real mystery. Everybody knew. There weren’t any witnesses, of course – there’d never be any witnesses in the Dog Run. It was an impossibility, like a perpetual. More

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