"On the morning of Sunday, December 12, a morbidly obese Corgi named Lily was sniffing a tree on 16sh street, in the Columbia Heights neighborhood of Washington, D.C. A cold, insistent drizzle was falling, but Lily didn’t care, because Lily was sniffing at her favorite tree. Indeed, the meager processing power of Lily’s brain was wholly occupied with sampling the mysterious scents wafting up from the damp earth, for this was the favorite tree of every other dog in the neighborhood.
"Something more annoying than the rain was nagging at the edge of her senses, though. At last the sounds began to penetrate.
" “C’mon, Lily! Hurry up!”
"Lily turned her head. The distraction was coming from the individual at the other end of Lily’s leash. She eyed him briefly, noting the sockless feet jammed into worn, black loafers. Above the bare ankles, a pair of pajama-clad legs disappeared into a rumpled raincoat, out of which came an arm holding an umbrella. The umbrella sheltered a stubbly, forty-something face topped by thinning black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Lily decided that the face did not look happy."
