“CAN I PET your dog?”
I looked up from my phone at the little girl standing in front of me. She was cute, maybe eight or nine, and her hand was reaching for the plastic dog carrier at my feet.
“No!” I shoved her hand away before it touched the carrier.
She yanked her hand back, her face screwing up as her eyes filled with tears. A woman rushed over and shot me a death glare as she ushered the crying girl away.
I sank back into my seat, ignoring the disapproving looks from some of the other ferry passengers. They should be directing their glares at the parent. Who let her child walk up to a complete stranger and stick her fingers in an animal carrier containing God only knew what?
Right on cue, growls came from the carrier along with the sounds of fighting. The carrier rattled, and the
