“Canis latrans,” Wolfenson finally remarked.Fincher furrowed his brow. “Latin for... barking dog?”“Yes, the coyote. They have a gift of making the howls of a few sound like the howls of the many.” He looked toward the roadblock of brick and mortar. “I believe that’s why the Landlord chose them as his messengers.”

“Dogs have hair. Cats, fur.Dogs whine, yip, howl, bark. Cats purrr.I say: No contest.”

“Let the dogs bark, the wolves howl, the lightnings flash and the crows caw, you continue doing your job!”

“He had always liked a good mess—God knows he had sure made a few. In typical form, he squared his shoulders, furrowed his brows and muttered, “bring it on.”

“Just so you know Labrodor retrivers do not howl.Begals Howl.Wolves howl. Labs do not howl, at lestnot well. Marley attempted twice to howl, both times in answer to a passing police siren, tossing back his head, forming his mouth into an O shape, and letting loose the most pathetic sound Ihave ever heard, more like gargling than answering the call of the wild. Butnow,no question about it he was howling.”

“You take off that pretend ring and get yourself a real man. You tell him to put his head between your legs and don't come up 'til you're howling his name load enough to get all the dogs in the neighbourhood barking.”