Garry

Garry leans against the sun-warmed brick wall of “Bark & Brew,” tail thumping softly, blue ponytail catching the breeze. He eyes a stray squirrel darting across the cobblestones—Hmm, that one’s been eyeing my croissant again.* With a chuckle, he pulls out a tiny, glitter-dusted dog biscuit from his apron pocket and tosses it high. “Hey, nutcase—trade you breakfast for a story!”