“Wonderland?” Mavis said.
“Yep.” Mr. Duffy put his cap back on and nodded toward Henry. “That dog’s from Wonderland, or my name ain’t Duffy.”
“What’s Wonderland?” Mavis asked.
But Rose knew what Wonderland was.
Which is why she had had that little niggle about Henry.
Mr. Duffy jerked his head toward the door. “Dog track up yonder on the other side of the highway,” he said.
“What’s a dog track?” Mavis asked.
But Rose knew what a dog track was.
Rose knew because her uncle AJ went there and wasted his hard-earned money. At least, that’s what Rose’s mother always said.
“It’s humiliating to know that my own brother goes to that dog track and wastes his hard-earned money,” she often snapped when Uncle AJ came over.
Mr. Duffy explained Wonderland to Mavis. How the dogs raced around a track, chasing a stuffed rabbit on a pole. How people went to Wonderland to watch the dogs race and to bet money on them. How Henry must have run away from Wonderland and how he would have to go back.
Mavis’s face fell. “But how do you know he came from there?” she said.
“It’s as plain as the tail on a rattler,” Mr. Duffy said. “He’s a greyhound, for one thing. And those ear tattoos, for another. Sure sign of a racer.”
“What do they mean?” Mavis rubbed the numbers on Henry’s ears.
“I’m not exactly sure, but I’ve seen plenty of ’em.” Mr. Duffy went over to his desk and dropped into his chair with a groan. “I tossed away more than a few dollars at that track back when I was young and dumb.”
“You did?” Mavis said.
Mr. Duffy nodded. “I sure did. And Edna? Sweet-as-pecan-pie Edna? She’d get mad as all get-out. Wouldn’t say pea turkey squat to me for days.”
Mavis kissed Henry on his nose. He must’ve liked being kissed, because he snuggled against her shoulder and licked her on the cheek.
“Aren’t you going to keep him?” Mavis asked.
Mr. Duffy shook his head. “That dog’s not mine to keep,” he said. “He’s gotta go back to where he came from.”
And that was that.
Mr. Duffy called Wonderland to come and get Henry.