They had been friends from childhood and Chuck had always been the thinner of the two, but now the skin seemed tight on his face as if he had eaten something sour. His fair complexion looked as brittle as week-old newspaper, making the shadows under his eyes darker still. It's Boomer, damn it. I know my own dog. Boomer, the border collie, was watching them from the upstairs bedroom window, cocking his head like a little person.
Boomer never barks.
The postman hates him. I'm the one leaving his marriage. I'm the one whose life is shattered. Harry's eyes were closed. He did not want to hear this.