"Oh, come on now, Jack. You really don't think I'd…"

Then, looking contrite, he admitted, "Okay, okay, so I want to get rid of a dog. You know damn well I live in an apartment, and can you figure a German shepherd in an apartment? Look… you live out in the suburbs, almost in the country. You got plenty of place for a big dog to run out in those woods near your place. Besides, the dog'd be good protection for Angela when you're away. Can't afford not to think of that in this day and age."

"Sure, you old bastard. What'd the dog do, chew up your slippers?"

"Hell no, best behaved dog I've ever seen."

"Maybe he's mean, then, you know how German shepherds can get."

"Not a chance. That big clown's the most lovable dog I ever met. Too damn lovable," Harry added in an odd bitter tone before going on, "look, I'm trying to tell you. It's not right to keep a big healthy dog like that in an apartment. I'm going to have to give him to the pound if I don't find a home for him."

"But why me?"

"Why not? Don't you really think it'd be good for Angela to have a dog?" Seeing the younger man weaken a little, Harry pushed on. "I'm not asking for an oath in blood, but why don't you just come out to the house after work and have a look. If you don't like him, that's it. My latest batch of home brew's in, anyhow, and you've been bugging me for a taste for weeks just come on out and have a look, that's all I'm asking."

The desperate tone in Harry's voice should have been enough to warn Jack, but, by now, he really was beginning to wonder if having a dog might not take Angela's mind off their troubles. It might be worth a look.

So, later that afternoon, after work, Jack found himself pulling up Harry's driveway, having followed him home. As he got out of the car, Jack could hear a thunderous barking coming from the upstairs apartment where Harry lived with his wife.