Brigit
Brigit had watched as the woman forced the dachshund to wave his paw.
Ridiculous.
She thanked her lucky stars she hadn’t been born a wiener dog. They were the laughingstocks of the canine world, what with their disproportionately long ears and stretched-out bodies and too-short legs. They looked as if they’d been assembled with spare parts.
Yes, shepherds were a far superior breed. Stealthier, too. That’s how Brigit had gotten away with that poor little schmuck’s raccoon toy.
It was the law of the canine world.
Alphas rule.
Megan didn’t seem to understand that rule, however. After taking Brigit to the place where everyone hated dogs and meeting with the mailman at the truck, she drove back to the house where Brigit had snatched the raccoon toy, forcefully taken the toy from Brigit, and left it on the porch.
Brigit had been plotting revenge until Megan stopped at a pet supply store, took Brigit inside, and found her a suitable substitute—a stuffed mallard duck.
Yeah. Brigit had Megan wrapped around her paw.
Sucker.