Chapter 53: Kill Bill?

Bob Morelli was now one frightened, confused, and miserable dog. For the first time in his life, the big, friendly, orange dog was too terrified to drool, and did not feel like chewing on anything. He cowarded in a corner and couldn't stop trembling like a withered leaf in chilly autumn wind while the haggard, battered man murmured something to himself and once again started half gasping, half giggling. Bob didn't understand why the man'd brought him here. He had lived here for a while before, and knew this place like the back of his paw. But he hadn't been here for a long, long time. He did all he could to curl his 116-pound body into a small, tiny fur ball and whimpered when the man dialed the number and placed the call. Bob really, really wanted to go home. He missed terribly his nice warm bed, his new chew toys, his stern, kind Mamma Angie, and his crazier-than-a-rabid-vampire-bat but nevertheless funny and dog-loving Nana Bella. And he also missed his Master so, so much...

The big orange dog's fluffy ears perked up as he caught the familiar word and suddenly remembered all the lessons his great, wise Master had taught him. Yes, Master, Bob sat up, nodded solemnly to himself and wiggled his bushy tail, Grasshopper will always remember his priority and fulfill his duty. Always.