“Fleegle, what does Buck from across the street look like?” I ask.
“He’s big, bigger than me, and very furry. He could clog the bathtub drain just by walking passed it. Why? I thought you’d seen him around.”
“Well, I was talking to the neighbors across the street, and they said they didn’t have a dog. They used to have a dog named Buck, but he got loose from their yard through a hole under the fence and got hit by a car.”
“Well that explains why the biscuits he’s been trading me for Roca taste so heavenly but never fill me up.”
“I think you’ve been seeing a ghost.”
“Hmm… You’ve never seen him then?”
“No,” I say.
“Don’t worry about it. I see a lot of things you don’t see.”
“Apparently.” I pat his back. “Did you know he was a ghost?”
“It had crossed my mind, but it didn’t matter. I mean, dead or alive, he’s still Buck, and I like Buck. He’s my friend.”