10
The pregnant artist
The next morning, Lily seemed anxious to set her plan in action. She dragged me across the street with my sketchbook in hand. “This old grump won’t want to buy anything,” I guessed.
“It’s worth a shot,” Lily sounded enthusiastic, already knocking on his door.
The brown Newfie inside poked its wet nose against the glass of the front window before raising its head and letting out a string of low-pitched, warning “Woofs!”
“You’re such a big, scary protector, aren’t you?” Lily spoke to the giant dog in a high-pitched voice and made kissing sounds at the animal through the window.
The dog sounded furious, so I nudged her with my elbow and told her to stop agitating it.
“Oh, Ruby is a big pussycat, just like Rascal and Riley,” she reassured me as she knocked on the
