But, because all of the other dogs wanted so much to find homes, and people who would love them—and maybe none of them would ever get adopted, which was really, really awful—he cried. And cried. And then, cried some more. After listening to nonstop weeping throughout the kennels for what felt like a really long time, he finally heard a tiny stump, stump, skitter, skitter coming down the hall. “It’s okay, everyone,” Florence said, in soothing meows. “Josephine is going to be very happy, and you all will find homes someday, too. Joan and Thomas will make sure of that. So, please don’t be upset.” No one stopped crying. “And there are some positively brilliant liver-flavored biscuits baking in the kitchen,” Florence said. “I’m sure Monica will bring them in here for all of you, while they’re still warm, and they will taste delicious. And then, everyone can go out to the meadow, and run and run until the sun goes down.” The dogs kept crying. Whimpering. Wailing. Sobbing.
