Once, when we had first moved into our house, a huge dog walked in and went straight to Harry's room. He didn't seem lost, in fact he seemed so not lost that I just let him keep going; I just got up to follow him and see what he had in mind. Don't get me wrong, we all exclaimed and fussed and said things like What? and Where'd you come from? and What's your name boy? but we didn't try to stop him. It seemed like he might be in the middle of something, like he might go straight to a secret spot in the back of the house and start digging up the floorboards only to uncover a huge secret stash of money or the missing clue to an unsolved crime. But he just wanted to meet Harry and play in his room for a while, he hung out, ate some pretzles and then left. He always had his own agenda.
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