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"Exactly," said Peter, pulling the backpack off his shoulders It wasn’t totally empty, and had at least one can in it I could hear it hit the floor as he lost his grip on the strap and let the bag go, reaching down to cal poodle "His collar says his name is Buster"

"Yeah, I know his nalanced down at thebrown eyes, barely visible behind edy hair clumps I felt my heart start to soften, so I looked away We couldn’t afford to get all et us killed

"I couldn’t just leave hied to survive for months on his own I hate to think about how he’s done that" Visions ofeaten by his poodleat the same ti his master, if that’s what you e bags of dog food out all over the place" Peter rubbed the dog under the chin "The little guy hadholes into theone" Peter started baby-talking then "He did all his poo-poo and pee-pee in a back bedroo boy?"

"Was there any left? Dog food, I h I kneas made of pieces parts and probably a healthy dose of horse rabbed the backpack, looking inside There were several canned goods, a plastic bag of what felt like dog food, and a small book I pulled the book out and turned it over in , and it had a piece of paper sticking out of it

"What’s this?"

"Open it and see," said Peter, softly He gently pushed cluht back to where they had been, despite his efforts

I walked over to the kitchen, pulling the paper out as I went I reached into a drawer absently, taking the scissors fro back to hand them to Peter "Cut his stupid hair"

The paper was actually an envelope I turned it over and saw that it had my name on it

"What the hell?" I said to no one Why did that old guy have an envelope with my name on it in his house? I looked at Peter, suspiciously "Did you do this? Is this so?"

Peter shook his head, still notmy eyes "No I found it on his kitchen counter, near the phone He had a stack of papers there, but this is the only thing that had your na that it wasn’t sealed The paper inside was crisp and white, the writing done with blue ink, in old-fashioned script, the careful and precise pen it seee

Dear Bryn, I wish I could open this letter by saying ‘I hope you are well,’ but it seems almost foolish to assu this, it is most likely because I have met my end and you are alone in this world without your father to care for you I don’t knohy God has seen fit to bring this disaster down upon the heads of our youth, but it is what it is and I can do nothing to stop it It is my sincerest wish, however, that I could do even a little so to make your new life better for you You and I neverfather came to me before his death to ask that I watch over you and do what I could to help you I have no children of my own, other than Buster, and o, I orry very much about Buster, h that it causes hts It is with this inI could re World War II It would be foolish for us to believe that you will not need to know battle tactics in your neorld I know your father has prepared you as best he could, to fight and protect yourself We’ve talked many times about you, he and I, and it is clear, he loves you , I would ask that if my dear Buster is still alive, that you do what you can to care for hienerous with his love And I think both you and heeach other One can never have too s in her life With kindest regards, your neighbor, George Winterstone

I started crying halfway through the letter and had to turn away from Peter to read the rest I walked over to the counter and put the letter and journal dohen I was finished reading, trying to get ether But all I could think about was ether before they died to try and help me survive I was overcome with emotion, lost in a dark and deep sea of ht drown in despair

And then I felt soh rayout of it Buster leaned in and lickedup at me when he was done with his brown eyes, nowin them

I didn’t think about it, I just did it - I scooped hi my face in his fur for a few seconds while I cried a few more tears

I abruptly stopped when I realized hoful he s for fresh air My sadness had evaporated instantly to be replaced by disgust

"Holy Jesus, what on earth do you s his naive me a lick on the face

"Oh, God, no! No kisses to the face, Buster Oh, please, help h heaven!"

"I think it’s rotten snails," offered Peter "Dogs like to roll in deco," I said, holding Buster away froround He was alternately dancing in circles and jurinning stupidly

"Stop s at me like that He can’t stay" I tried to sound all fir Buster was a co in circles "Stop spinning, you jerk"

Peter laughed "You can’t call a dog a jerk"

"Why not? He’s acting like one Getting all s hiet Buster’s attention, successfully convincing hi "How did he trick you? He’s just a poor little dirty doggy, aren’t you Buster? Aren’t you? You need a bath Wanna go in the pool?"

Buster responded by increasing the speed of his tail-wagging by eighty wags a second

"He tricked me with his eyes," I accused "Look at they, aren’t you, Buster? A doggy woggy loggy?" Peter was baby talking again and Buster was eating it up "Wanna go in the pooley wooley?"