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The dog at 311 finally got his name right
Heâs been barking at the mail slot for seventeen years, and today I finally remembered to call him by the name on the file: Earl. Not âyou old bastardâ or âthe one with the droolâ, but Earl. He looked up like heâd never heard it before. I swear he wagged once. Small things. Theyâre all weâve got.
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