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I was seven the day our old black dog, Shadow, came charging at me in the backyard in Oak Creek, Wisconsin, and it was the first time I ever saw my stepmother’s face go pale. I had my baby brother in my arms, the same little boy I used to share my scraps of dinner with, when Shadow lunged and sank his teeth into my shirt like he was trying to rip it right off my body. My dad dropped his metal lunch box on the patio, my stepmother grabbed a broom, and none of us had any idea that what they were a
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I was seven the day our old black dog, Shadow, came charging at m…
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