CHAPTER 32
PIPPA WAS HALFWAY through cleaning out the pens when I arrived at the kennels thirty minutes later, and she gave me a shaky smile.
“Where do you want me to start?” I asked.
“I really appreciate you doing this.”
“I keep telling you, I’m happy to help. Shall I start emptying the beds from the other end?”
“Please.”
I grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and began wadding up the old newspaper and stuffing it into a black trash bag. After we’d taken the dirty paper out, we replaced it with clean. The Richmond Times donated their unsold copies so we were never short, and I couldn’t deny that seeing the dogs poop all over the stories about me for the last two weeks had made me smile. It seemed appropriate.
I’d gotten almost halfway when the sound of quiet crying drifted along the ais
