Thousand: Four Hundred Eleven

from the bottom and looks at Bernie. “Uh. You want a boost?” Bernie starts to crouch to hoist the dog up, but the dog ducks around him and butts him with a hard yellow head. “Hey! OK! The sign said. But you say. No carrying dog, right?” Bernie puts a hand on a rung and a foot. He lifts himself up. The dog claps his jaws together under Bernie’s ass; thus encouraged Bernie mounts higher. Higher. He looks down. The dog is watching. “Are you sure?” Bernie asks. The dog drops his head and trots on into the darkness. “I