It looks like a Bloodhound and a Doberman had a baby. Then that baby got with a Rottweiler/Greyhound mix, and those two had a baby with some patchy fur, horribly yellow-eyed thing with massive teeth and enough height to keep Vance from having to bend over, as he scratches the dog’s chin. “Holy massive scary dog,” I say on a gasp. That dog isn’t far from being eye-level with me. At five-feet-nine-freaking-inches. And that’s with all four paws on the ground. “It’s a horse. Not a dog,” I hiss.
