She was a beautiful little brunette. Seven years old, with big brown eyes and a friendly expression. She probably weighed about 60 pounds. Her name was McKenzie, and she had a lot of energy.

And she was almost an exact copy of Boomer, our boxer bulldog.

She was in the backseat of a car parked at a rest stop in Tennessee between Knoxville and Nashville. Her owner was seated in the driver’s seat. His wife was approaching the car with a water bowl. The windows were cracked, as in rolled down a little bit to keep McKenzie from

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