I always feel cramped during the full moon and I wake in strange places, this morning on the boardwalk. I sniff the air, smells nice but how did I get here? And where is here? I trot along, looking for the answer to where I am. The aroma of bacon wafts on the breeze to me from a screen door. Inside is a kitchen with a man cooking at a big stove. I knock on the door and call out. He looks at me with a smile and comes to the door.
“Hi, pooch,” he says. “Are you lost, boy?”

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