As coffee percolated, the front door tubular bells chimed; right on time.When I opened the door, Peter frowned at me. He reminded me of Tintin, his sh...rt, brush-cut red hair moussed into a spike on top in the middle.“Here!” he stated. “I quit!”I took the leash from him and smiled at the rambunctious chocolate Lab puppy. “You can’t quit. I need you,” I informed him.“I’ve picked up enough feces and mopped up enough urine for a lifetime. I hate animals,” he claimed, shaking his leg as the puppy. The morning passed, and we stopped to eat at noontime.He reached into his pack, and extracted an entire loaf of bread. “How does that fit in there,” I said with a laugh. “That is not possible.”“This is a magical bag. It will hold as much as a cart. I can put your pack in here, if you wish.”“Thank you not telling me this before.”He bowed to me. “Of course.” He took my pack and dropped it into his pack. As he said, it fit easily. He took out a trencher, and assembled our lunch on it. “You have. More

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