- 12 -
- 12 -Woofie whined to go out.
“Just a minute, fella,” I said as I fumbled for the headlamp. Woofie fussed and scratched at the door off the kitchen. Near darkness slowed my progress and the dog whirled and leapt with urgency. Forget the leash; Woofie was ready to explode. I flung open the door and he hurled himself into the darkness.
“Woofie! Come back,” I shouted. I rushed back inside, grabbed my boots and coat, and stumbled out into the blizzard. I called at the top of my lungs, but my words were tossed back at me like paper confetti. He was lost, vanished in the storm. God, how what would I tell Bertie? I had to find him, but I needed light. Then I remembered the gas lantern that I used for camping—somewhere in the garage. I jammed on my headlamp. The thin pool of light barel
