By Sebastian Gibson
I had taken a taxi home the night before from a night out with friends but I no longer had any clue where I'd parked my car. Sam, my bloodhound, was looking at me mournfully wondering why I wasn't driving him to the dog park so he could romp with his friends.
"Find the car, Sam," I said.
Sam just spit out the tennis ball in his mouth at me and looked at me like I was a moron. He'd alre...
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