Excerpt:

Last Monday morning at 1:30 a.m. I came out of Pearson Airport with my dachsie Kishka in tow looking for a limo to drive us home.

Kishka, as is the requirement whenever I fly to and from my home in Florida, was comfortably zipped up in his soft kennel.

He was half-asleep at that hour — and so hidden away — that the first driver in line headed towards me to start loading my luggage.


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