“What was a surprise was when the dog answered his question. 'Want to play ball now,' Gabriel [the dog] declared in a very clear and precise voice. Aaron opened his eyes and gazed up into the grinning face of the animal. There was no doubt now. The day's descent into madness was complete. He was, in fact, losing his mind.”

“'Shotgun!' he bellowed, startling them as he scrambled to the front, passenger-side door.Camael looked at him, an expression of confusion on his goateed face. 'What did you Say?''I said shotgun,' Gabriel [the dog] explained. 'It's what you're supposed to say when you want to ride in the front seat.'Aaron could not help but laugh. No matter how many conversations he had had with the animal, Gabriel's increased intelligence still managed to surprise him.”

“He's got gas," Aaron explained, his voice muffled by the hand still over his face. "It happens when he eats stuff he's not supposed to." "It's vile," Camael said, glaring at the dog. "Something should be done so that it never happens again.”

“Meanwhile, he would continue to play the big, friendly dog. He sat by the counter. Grinned. Wagged his tail.”

“Much to his annoyance, a thought popped into his mind. It was very clear and very distinct, and he had now come to recognize these thoughts for what they were. His instinct was to resist them.”

“There was a little girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good . . .” His voice trailed off in the middle of the sentence.Laura found herself caught in the intensity of his gaze and muttered the end of the rhyme. “. . . She was very, very good, and when she was bad . . .”Gabriel finished what he had started, grinning at his own wit. “. . .She was better.”Laura’s eyebrows arched as she hid a quick smile. “That’s not the way I learned it.”Gabriel picked up his fork and dug back into his salsa-spiced eggs. “If you’d been a boy, you would have.”