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Show But just last week Josh's mother had to bail out the errant dog. Cletus Fairborae had emerged from the only movie theater in Jericho to find Chinook sitting expectantly in his car, waiting to be taken for a ride. Not wanting to get in with the dog-and Chinook refusing to budge from the front seat-Cletus had called the dog catcher to rid his car of the animal. Mr. Keebler had sternly informed the O'Tosh family that the town would put up with no more of the oversized dog's shennanigans. And all the time he made his threats on the O'Tosh porch Chinook stood shamefaced and sorrowful-like, his tail drooping nearly to the ground. Not that the dog bit people or anything. Chinook just had a way of being there when trouble broke loose. His size was part of the problem. Like the time when the milk truck swerved to avoid hitting the massive husky and knocked down seven mail boxes on Sutter Road. Indeed Chinook looked more like a lumbering gray bear in a racoon's mask than a dog. At the very least he looked as if he A belonged in the Arctic. Wherever he went, people turned to stare-and sometimes they shrieked and ran. Josh didn't mind this, but some people were so afraid of Chinook's size that they blamed him for things he didn't do. It was a problem, all right. Now Josh hesitated, but finally the lure of seeing the gold bar was too much. With a nod to the dog he ambled on toward the park. The wagon load of eggs bounced and swayed behind Chinook as they came, until Josh swooped to steady the load. The dog seemed to like these twice-weekly trips around town |