I wanted Cloud as close to me as possible, and I thought they might be able to refer me to a suitable place in the Northeast. But every place I tried had a wait list up to a year. And since a “dangerous dog” would be kept by itself and not allowed to play with other dogs or socialize with people other than the handler who would take the dog out to eliminate, it would be a life of solitary confinement. I knew people in the rescue world who felt that there was something worse than euthanasia, and this was what they meant. Dogs went crazy in such a situation, and the manifestations of their misery were many. Could I subject my dog to this? Was choosing the lesser evil the best I could do for Cloud? What was the lesser evil? I wanted McKenzie’s opinion. I was still sleeping on Steven’s foldout. I made myself coffee and phoned McKenzie’s office. “Laurence McKenzie’s office,” a familiar voice answered. “Billie?” “Yes, may I take a message?” “It’s me, Morgan.” “Morgan!
What do You think about The Hand That Feeds You (2015)?
