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Without looking up； the doctor asked； 〃What was the reason for the surgery？〃
Twilly said； 〃I don't know。〃 Desie had promised to tell him； but never did。
〃I don't understand。 Isn't this your dog？〃
〃Actually； I just found him a few days ago。〃
〃Then how do you know his name？〃
〃I had to call him something besides 'boy。' 〃
The veterinarian turned and eyed Twilly dubiously。 Twilly made up a story about finding the Labrador wandering the shoulder of Interstate 75 near Sarasota。 He assured the veterinarian he was taking an advertisement in the local newspaper； in the hopes of locating the dog's owner。
〃No rabies tags？〃 the veterinarian asked。 〃No； sir。〃
〃No collar？〃
〃Nope；〃 Twilly said。 The collar and the tag were in the car。
〃A dog like this…it seems hard to believe。 This animal has champion bloodlines。〃
〃I sure wouldn't know about that。〃
The veterinarian stroked McGuinn's snout。 〃Somebody cared enough to take him in for surgery。 Doesn't make any sense they'd abandon him afterward。 Not to me； it doesn't。〃
Twilly shrugged。 〃Humans are hard to figure。 The point is； I care about him； too。 Otherwise I wouldn't be here。〃
〃No； I suppose not。〃
〃I got worried when he stopped eating。〃
〃Yes； it's good you brought him in。〃 The veterinarian lifted McGuinn's upper lip and peered at the pale gums。 〃Mr。 Spree； do you mind waiting in the other room？〃
Twilly returned to the reception area and took a seat across from two maternal…looking women； each with an obese cat on her lap。 Next to Twilly sat a sharp…featured man clutching a brushed leather valise； from which a small shaggy head…no larger than an apple…would emerge intermittently。 Its moist brown eyes would dart edgily about the room until the man whispered something； and then the tiny canine head would pop out of sight。
The sharp…featured man noticed Twilly staring； then pulled the valise protectively to his chest。 Abruptly he got up and moved three chairs away。
〃So；〃 Twilly said affably； 〃what's your hamster's name？〃
The young man snatched up a veterinary magazine and pretended to read。 The other pet owners seemed equally disinclined to chat。 Twilly assumed they disapproved of his attire…he was shirtless and barefoot； and wore only a pair of old chinos。 The rest of his clothes were at a laundromat down the street。
〃Ah well；〃 he said； and folded his arms。 Before long he fell asleep and； as always； did not dream。 He awoke to see the face of the frizzy…haired woman in the pink lab coat。
〃Mr。 Spree？ Mr。 Spree？〃
〃Yes。 Sorry。〃
〃Dr。 Whitb needs to see you right away。〃
Twilly rose so fast； it made him wobbly。 〃Is something wrong？〃 he asked the woman in pink。
〃Please。 e right now。〃
The dog predated Desirata。 It was a gift from Dag Magnusson； president of the Magnusson Phosphate pany； who knew that Palmer Stoat loved to hunt。 Dag Magnusson had purchased the dog from a breeder of field…trial champion Labradors in Hibbing； Minnesota。 The one selected by Dag Magnusson was the pick of the litter and cost fifteen hundred dollars。 Stoat named him Boodle as an inside joke； although the dog technically wasn't a bribe but rather a reward for arranging one。
Dag Magnusson had sought out Stoat because a Magnusson mine in Polk County was about to be shut down by the EPA for polluting a munity lake with chemical runoff。 The chemical was so vile that it exterminated all life…forms larger than amoebas； and the government was contemplating a whopping six…figure fine against Magnusson Phosphate； in addition to padlocking the facility。 The situation was so politically touchy…and the lake so odiferously befouled…that not even the sluttiest congressman could be induced to intervene。
So Palmer Stoat tried another approach。 He put Dag Magnusson in touch with a regional EPA administrator who was known to have a weak spot for trout fishing。 Dag Magnusson invited the EPA man to acpany him on a trip to a private stretch of blue…ribbon river in western Montana； and it was there the lucky fellow nailed his first twenty…inch rainbow。 The fish had barely stopped flopping when the EPA quietly began settling its differences with Magnusson Phosphate； which ultimately agreed to pay a 3；900 fine and erect large warning signs on the shores of the poisoned lake in Polk County。 Dag Magnusson was delighted with the oute； and decided that Palmer Stoat deserved something more than his customarily exorbitant fee。
Hence the dog。 Stoat's wife at the time （his second） protested； but to no avail。 The wife's name was Abbie； and she had no patience for puppy piddle or puppy poop。 Few humans are able to resist the spunky charms of a six…week…old Labrador retriever； but Abbie could and did。 She was resolutely not； by her own admission； 〃an animal person。〃 She felt that anything with fur belonged on a hanger； not under the dining room table licking her pedicured toes。 Abbie's attitude toward the puppy was so glacially resentful that it alarmed her husband； who was amused； if not smitten； by his rambunctious new pooch。 Palmer Stoat had been mentally piling reasons to divorce Abbie； and her aversion to Boodle immediately vaulted to the top of his list （replacing； temporarily； her aversion to oral…genital contact）。
In the end； Stoat was able to turn his wife's dislike of the puppy to his own legal advantage。 One evening he returned home from Tallahassee to find Abbie hysterically flogging the young dog with a rolled…up copy of Women's Wear Daily。 Boodle was nearly a year old and already ninety…plus pounds； so he wasn't the least bit harmed or even unnerved by Abbie's outburst （and failed to make a connection between the spanking and the coral red Rossetti sling…back that had bee his newest chew toy）。 The dog thought Abbie was playing； and throughout the attack he kept wagging his truncheon…like tail in appreciation of the rare display of attention。 Palmer Stoat burst into the laundry room and wrested the rolled…up fashion magazine from his wife's fist。 Within a week he presented her with divorce papers。 Abbie signed without a fight； rather than face the lurid accusations of animal cruelty that her husband had vowed to publicize。
After she was gone； Stoat briefly set out to make a hunting dog of his blood…champion Lab。 Boodle proved excellent at fetching but not so good at retrieving。 He could find a downed mallard in the thickest cattails but invariably he kept swimming。 By the time Stoat and his hunting panions chased down the dog； there was too little remaining of the bedraggled game bird to cook。 Stoat went through half a dozen Labrador trainers before giving up on Boodle； the retrieval talents for which his canine lineage was famous obviously had skipped a generation。 Stoat consigned the dog to household…protection duties； for which he seemed well suited； given his daunting size and midnight blackness。
So Boodle had settled in as lord of the manor。 Stoat was undeniably fond of the animal； and enjoyed the pany on those rare nights he wasn't away traveling； or drinking at Swain's。 To his delight Stoat also discovered that； unlike the vanquished Abbie； most women adored large huggable dogs and were attracted to men who owned them。 Boodle （Palmer Stoa