“Please don’t let it be a kid. Please don’t let it be a kid.” He repeated, praying selfishly to a god he only believed in when he needed a favor. Finally he opened his eyes a crack. He tilted his head to the rearview mirror. Relief flooded him like a soothing wave. Instead of a child, a shaggy brown lump lay between his tire marks. A long tail wagged pathetically. “Mr. Davidson? Mr. Davidson?” “Oh thank God, it’s a dog.” Visions of Lassie saving Timmy from the well danced through Bill’s brain. The padding got louder for a moment and then stopped. Bill heard a faint tinkling on the wind.