Free Say That Again by Gemini Sasson

was a shelter where they gave their extra children away? I pondered it and decided this was not the case. I had never seen a human mother with more than one infant at a time. And yet... the two youngest of the Grunwalds were mirror images of one another and both the same height, no taller than their mother’s hip.
    Evelyn explained that we were both up to date on our vaccines — I had taken my shot stoically, while the others had screamed and resisted — and that whichever pup they chose, they would be given a certificate for a free spay or neuter, whatever those were. Some sort of prize, I supposed.
    After a brief exchange with Mr. and Mrs. Grunwald, in which Evelyn asked if they were prepared to commit to a dog for the next ten to fifteen years, to which they of course said ‘yes’, she excused herself, stating that this mythical Aaron, whom I’d never seen, was not in today and she had to man the front desk again.
    Instead of staying behind the low wall and observing the puppies at first like most people, the entire Grunwald family poured into the puppy area. The two identical boys zeroed in on the smaller puppy, passing him back and forth as he wagged his silky tail. The grandmother picked me up, scowled, then set me back down. The two middle children, a girl and a boy, punched each other, then whined to their mother, while the oldest two girls leaned against the wall, jabbing their thumbs at small handheld devices.
    “Which one do you want?” the father asked to no one in particular. “And hurry up! We ain’t got all bloomin’ day.”
    “This one! This one!” the youngest pair shouted as they jumped up and down, the tiny puppy bouncing in the one boy’s arms.
    Just as he thrust the puppy at his father, the puppy peed right onto the father’s boots.
    “Aw, God!” The man backed up, waving his hands in front of him. “Put him down, for crying out loud.” His face twisted in disgust. “Mavis, grab the other one and let’s go. I’m not taking home a piss-pot for a dog.”
    “But it’s a puppy, Earl.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Puppies pee. Besides, you said it was going to be an outdoor dog. So what does it matter? If the boys want the Yorkie-Poo, let them have him. He can stay in the garage when it’s cold.”
    “Look at him, Mavis. The thing weighs four pounds. He’s a stuffed toy, not a dog. They’ll step on him and squash him flat. They need a bigger dog. A sturdy dog that can take a bit of rough and tumble.”
    “Then why don’t we look at the adults? I saw some real pretty ones standing in them runs when we drove up.”
    “Get a clue, will you? There’s a reason those older dogs are in there. It’s prison for dogs. I’m not dealing with someone else’s problem. These pups are from accidental breedings. They’s mixes. Healthier than those purebreds you pay a thousand bucks for.”
    Her gaze falling on me, she sneered. “You just don’t want me to have that Pekingese I saw at the pet store. That smooshed-in face was sooo adorable.”
    “I ain’t payin’ for no Pekingese, Mavis Veronica Grunwald. So get that out of your thick head right now. You think the ATM just magically spits out free money?”
    “They have payment plans,” she muttered.
    “We’re getting the big one.”
    Squinting, the oldest girl looked up from her device. “Something happened to his tail. What’s wrong with it? Is it tucked between his legs?”
    “It’s gone,” the second tallest girl said. “S’pose he was in an accident?”
    “Maybe he was born that way?” the mother said. “Aren’t some dogs born like that, Earl? Like bulldogs? My cousin Johnny had a bulldog with a short little screw-tail once.”
    “He ain’t no bulldog, Mavis. He’s black and white. Must be part Border Collie.”
    That was the first time I realized that sometimes dogs are smarter than human beings. It would not be the last. I was born bobtailed. It was common for my breed, the Australian Shepherd. I’d heard