Barking Bach !
Then it happened: his head tilted back, muzzle pointing toward the ceiling, and he let out a sound—not a bark, not a whine, but something between a howl and a sigh, A perfect A-sharp, Mrs, Henderson realized with a jolt, The same note the oboist had played that one time she'd dragged her late husband to the symphony, back when they could still afford such things, Bandit's throat pulsed with the sustained pitch, his blind eyes wet with concentration, Around them, the air seemed to thicken, charged with something like the moment before lightning strikes
Then it happened: his head tilted back, muzzle pointing toward the ceiling, and he let out a sound—not a bark, not a whine, but something between a howl and a sigh. A perfect A-sharp, Mrs. Henderson realized with a jolt. The same note the oboist had played that one time she'd dragged her late husband to the symphony, back when they could still afford such things. Bandit's throat pulsed with the sustained pitch, his blind eyes wet with concentration. Around them, the air seemed to thicken, charged with something like the moment before lightning strikes.
