For the past five years, my family has struggled with an aging, smelly, ill-tempered West Highland Terrier named Harry. Harry was an older, decrepit animal when we got him, kind of sluggish and ornery, at times reeking like spoiled lunchmeat. Think of a tiny Abe Vigoda in a little, smelly white fur coat.

I really shouldn't say that "we" struggled to adapt, as it was more my struggle. Harry was fine with the other family members but took an instant dislike to me. He sidled up ...

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