The leash went taut and Devin picked up his pace, following Scrambler around the perimeter of the cemetery.
Scrambler picked a spot and relieved himself, Devin dutifully reaching for the waste bag.
He hadn’t always been diligent about cleaning up after his Weimaraner until about the third time he saw “The Convict.”
The first time Devin saw the man he imme…
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