The caretaker looks at the bitch sheepdog. Third stray he'd found this week. He shook his head and dialed animal control.
As the khaki garbed woman climbed into the truck, he asked, "So think you'll find him a good home?"
"Well, if we don't in three days, she'll be put to sleep," she said matter of factly and correctedd his incorrect use of gender too.
The caretaker's eyes narrowed. He rubbed his chin. And he said...