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I think it is appropriate for the season to tell a Dirty Biter winter tale.
While living on Park Street in La Conner, I received a telephone call from a woman in Conway on Christmas Eve morning 1975.
She called to tell me my small, dark brown dog was in her barn. I thought for a moment and then told her that it couldn’t be Biter, because he was a blond dog and was under our bed still sleeping.
She told me she had found only the words La Conner on his dog tag. She called the La Conner Town Hall, and they gave her my phone number — Biter was quite a character, so they knew us well.
I looke...
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