I have a series of stories called The Class Of. The first in this series is The Class of Dog. It goes back at least ten years and has several incarnations most of which have ended in the death of 'Pebbles.' Which is the name of the dog. One of the more current incarnations of The Class of Dog, has a slightly happier ending for 'Pebbles.'
As with so many things, a person is never certain the extent to which something
might be finished and gone. And here I've mostly had an unhappy relationship
with dogs and I am extraordinarily fond of the idea that 'Pebbles' should come
to some grisly and horrible end. But the more I know of 'Pebbles' the fonder I
seem to be of her. Which in my view is a perfect example of the nature of