Fiction | January 01, 1988
The Motions of the Animals
Gerald Duff
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“That one yonder is the head dog then?” said B.J., looking at the black and tan hound curled up in the dust by one of the sections of oak stump supporting the front porch of the house. It was getting on toward evening, and the long shadows of the afternoon sun fell across all of the dog but his head and part of one front leg.”
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