The Master's Child
"Put the gun away and back off."
He doesn't move, so this time, I take him by the arm, easing him backwards.
The pitch is low. Whatever's producing the sound is big.
As we retreat a few steps, the owner of the sound emerges. And he's a whopper.
Black, with ginger face markings and eyebrows, this dog could be cast as 'Hellhound of the Year'. A Rottweiler, he crouches, body hanging low, ears laid flat back. His eyes are white-rimmed and his lips pulled back to display ranks of pristine teeth.
Bab Populer