They came to another fenced area. Inside was a shack and tied to it was a
strange gangbanger mix of Rottweiler, pit bull, and wolf, a brindle-dun
carnivore without an ounce of extra fat and with chewed-off ears.
“Lord have mercy,” Clive said under his breath.
The dog was 120 pounds of head, jaw muscles, and shoulders. His eyes scanned the yard and stopped on the
men. Slowly, he walked forward with the
off-kilter stare of a Mexican street dog charged up on a jolt of
methamphetamine. He did not look
anything like Clive’s golden retriever.
He looked like something that fed on golden retrievers.
(from Cold Storage,
Alaska by John Straley)
7½*/10. The full review is here.
.
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