Real Breed

“Mercy,” the man drinking a light beer by the pond where people bring their dog’s to swim says sharply, “stop bugging that dog.”

“What breed is Mercy,” Katie asks as a thin, nervous looking dog trots over to him wearing a guilty expression.

“A blue lacey,” he says as if this is something we would have heard of, ah yes, blue lacey, of course, everyone knows the blue lacey, should have guessed just by looking.

“I think he’s just making up names,” I mutter to Katie after Mercy and her owner have left.