The Price of Buddy
Language: en
The day after the stick turned pink, Mark’s entire family descended on our house. They came bearing casseroles and unsolicited advice. They sat there, lecturing me on how to be the perfect incubator. During the chaos, Mark’s nephew, a brat named Tyler, took a shine to my dog, Buddy. He wouldn’t let go of him, squeezing him tight. He looked up at me and asked, "How old is the doggy?" I smiled, trying to be patient. "If you do the math, he’s your big brother. He’s fifteen years old." Mark’s mom, Brenda, scowled immediately. "Don't talk nonsense," she snapped. "Comparing a beast to…