It happened yet again, not a half hour ago. I had barely gotten Bangor out his front door when Daisy barked. His ears went up and he stood straighter, his tail rigid, darting his eyes around the street. “Daisy,” I said wearily, “there’s no one there.” But there was someone there. She had smelled a Pembroke-duck-toller mix at the end of the block, walked by a man reading a magazine who laughed as my Labs strained against their leashes at that half-Enemy Number One to nearly all Labradors: the herding dog.
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